Banana Peels
by Plastic Emotion
Summary: A collaboration of bits of creations in my mind. Or mini one shots. Your call. All are different and do not link to the next. Chapter 10's Story: Not Those Kind
1. Of Girlies And Men

**Banana Peels**

_Author's Note: Holy Gravy, where have I been? Well...college crap and so forth. Yeah, so what I'm planning to do here is a collection of ...not exactly one shots...(or you could, but they're a bit shorter than my infamous long ones) but more of "pieces" that could be one shots if I ever planned them to be more than this, which is what I'm most likely not doing, and why they're going here. I don't wanna waste my thoughts or creations, and no worries, Crashed is not forgotten. So enjoy these random stories that are not linked by chapters whatsoever. Each one will be its own fable. Thank you._

Of Girlies and Men

Bits of sunshine were poking through the fat, bulbous clouds surrounding the air of Kong Studios, a slight wind wisping around the bit of chill Spring usually bore in its months. Down below, to the left of the landfill that didn't smell so much because of the winds, and in an area where tombstones and mausoleums didn't dominate the land, the four famous misfits of the world stood, bearing warlike faces at each other, a piece of pigskin separating two of the four while the other two tried to block each other. But the question wasn't when to throw the ball, it was HOW Murdoc was going to get the ball over the gigantic mountain of man in front of him.

Dressed in a mere pair of khaki shorts and brown steel toed boots...and, of course, his signature chain, it was strange to see Murdoc wearing shorts out of all the possible choices he had (which was jeans...dirty jeans...or underwear), but it was better than nothing (which he would have no problem pulling off, either). Wiping the sweat gathering along his sideburns by his right ear with his shoulder, the bassist sniffed and whipped his arm as hard as he could, veins pulsing in his neck, "Dullard, yeh better catch 'is one!" At the word, the tall singer tugged at the front of his orange "pretty zombie" tee in effort to ventilate and scanned the skies, praying he would catch it this time before the preteen tornado of doom decided it was time to take him for a spin down the tunnel of unconsciousness.

Head bobbing between the sky and the girl, 2D began to run back a little, starting the guitarist on her starter up dash, ready to pound him to the ground. "Go, girl!" the giant boomed, throwing a thick armed point at her, a definite cue to do whatever it took to keep the thin man from making contact with the angular ball, but this slightly threw Noodle off a few seconds, allowing the black orbs to identify the ball and grin happily, arms flailing in effort to snatch it from the air. His long legs bounded a couple more feet and before the sun could shimmer in his eyes, the blue haired god's bony fingers curved around the football before he could get whacked in the face like it had done three downs ago. Pausing in amazement and joy, the singer squeaked happily, hugging the ball to his frail chest, about to take off, "I caught it! I cought it, Murdoc! I didn't drop it 'is time!" he gloated, immediately receiving a kidney shot by the karate junior and falling to his demise.

Smacking a dirty, sweaty hand against his cheek, Murdoc rolled his eyes and grunted angrily. "Dullard, yeh soddin' pansy! The bloody wind blows an' yeh tip over!" he barked, glaring at Russel who was fanning himself with his yellow cap, "Maybe we should take a break, Muds...we been at it all day." Arching a brow, the bassist trudged over to where the others were, "We've been at it for less 'an a half hour an' yeh been out o' breath since before we started. Stop eatin' so much o' our damn food an' maybe yeh'll lose a roll." he snapped, ruffling his own hair from sweat. Wiping his forehead, Russel yawned, "When you stop drinkin' an' lose that beer gut."

Over on the floor, 2D still had the pigskin clutched underneath him, unbelieving that he had been brought down in his star moment, by a twelve year old, no less. Dusting her messy self off, the preteen grinned, adjusting her black pigtails, "Gomen ne, 2D-kun, but you cannot out run me." Pouting while slowly lifting himself, the singer grumbled, twirling the ball in his hands, "Didn't even get a chance teh run..." Snatching the ball from 2D, Murdoc tossed it to Russel, "Yo' offense. Dullard, get yo' sorry arse up...gettin' tackled by a lit'tle girl, yeh should be a-fuckin-shamed o' yo'self." he muttered, placing himself before Russel to crouch. Noodle ignored these comments as always, since they really weren't aimed at her and mainly at 2D. Not that she enjoyed when 2D was insulted, but he seemed to take it pretty well considering it was a harsh truth. The singer wasn't very good at football or brutality.

Off went the ball from Russel, spinning around as a perfect bullet towards the axe princess, she, darting for it as soon as it had left the drummer's hand. Her hands extended out for it, smiling eagerly before the singer's fingers tapped it, flicking the ball off the intended target. Not willing to have an interception, Noodle threw herself to the side, catching the ball, but tripping over a piece of broken tombstone on her way. She stumbled a bit while the keyboardist merely stared with his head tilted, giving a nervous back glance at Murdoc, unsure what to do. He slightly leaned forward, but pulled himself back in fear, cowering away when she finally gained her right balance and shot off, all taking place in a matter of seconds. The girl ran passed a rusty bucket of nails and bolts Murdoc had brought out to marker off the touchdown zone and threw the ball down, squealing with glee, "Touchdown! Touchdown!"

Giving his neck a slight rub, 2D winced, knowing the bassist was going to kill him. There was no way Murdoc hadn't seen the fall back. "2D!" their leader hissed, snagging him from behind by the cuff of his neck, "Wot the FUCK wos tha' all about? The girl fumbles wit the ball an' yeh jus' _stare_ at 'er? Does yo' brain turn _off_ at random times o' the 'our?" he yelled, rattling the singer like a bozo clown toy. Sensing an issue about, Noodle picked up the ball and cradled it like an infant, able to listen in the closer she got. "I-I didn't wanna 'urt 'er, Muds! She's a girl!" he defended, covering his face in order to shun the spit.

"'ew fuckin' cares? It's _football_ for cryin' out loud!"

"Bu-But Murdoc, she's _small_! I don't wanna squoosh 'er or be rough or nut'in'..."

Closing his eyes, Murdoc took a deep breath, resting a hand on his hip while the other pinched the broken bridge of his nose, "So...yo' tellin' me you've been _let'en_ 'em win three teh seven because Noodle's a bloody girl...Great. Tha's jus' great, faceache...Remind me teh fuck yeh face up later." Russel shook his head, "Muds, calm the hell down, it's just a game."

"Tha' YO' winnin! Don't tell me teh calm the 'ell down you 'ave the advantage of a girl on yo' team tha' dullard won't touch because she's _delicate_!" the bassist hissed, throwing a glare at the singer. Frowning a bit, Noodle tossed the ball down, "_Iie_! I am perfectly capable of handling anything you three can throw at me in this game!" she huffed, giving 2D a curious "_were you really throwing the game_" expression that he easily avoided by pretending to be interested in what Murdoc had to say. Either way, Noodle was ready to prove herself. She wanted to win fair and square, not be allowed easy scores because of her gender. "Fine then. We'll switch. Dullard, you be quarterback, an' don't fuck up." the bassist ordered, handing the ball to Russel, "Yo' go..."

Everyone set into position, 2D towering over Russel in defense, but Russel was about five times wider and easily identifiable as his large arm swung, releasing the brown sewed up material, sending it into an easy soar. Noodle was ready for the catch, but when it came to obtaining territory, Murdoc Niccals was a raging beast. Almost immediately after the ball was thrown, the bassist charged at his guitarist, smacking into her and crushing the child with his weight, leaving her in complete shock on the ground as he easily intercepted the catch and ran over to his team's touchdown zone, throwing the ball down while he pelvic thrusted a victory dance, "Tha's 'ow yeh do it, yeh bastard!" he cheered, mainly talking to 2D about the taking down Noodle bit.

However, the singer was not interested in the bassist's egotistical air, but in the thick scrape the girl had from her knee down to the center of the shin. Blood quickly covered this raw torn meat and the dirt getting into it did nothing for her pain. "See! See! Tha's wot I wos talkin' about! Yeh 'urt 'er. Muds! See!" 2D squealed over and over, continually pointing at her and nodding at the bassist walking over. Casting a shadow over all of them, Russel gently lifted Noodle and tossed her on his shoulder, resembling an ogre claiming his maiden. "Let's get you cleaned up."

"_Iyaaaa_! I can still play, it is a minor cut, Rusu-sama, please! Kudasaimasen!" the girl quickly called out, patting his back, but the drummer continued on his way with the other two following. "Yeh should apologize." 2D muttered, receiving a hard punch that was bound to become a bruise at some point. Shaking her head, Noodle sighed, "He does not have to, D-kun. It was not intended. It was a sport injury." Smirking at the girl, Murdoc roughly nudged the flinching singer, "See? Girl knows 'ow the game works, unlike _some_ mentally challenged rejects..."

Once inside, Russel took her to the bathroom, all three each having a job to perform on Noodle's leg: Russel the alcohol, Murdoc the bandages, and 2D the comforting hug. "This is ridiculous. If Murdoc-sama had his organs hanging from a gash in his belly, you would not stop a game and worry..." she grumbled, arms crossed angrily. Giving her a smile, Russel put the used items away, "Yeah, but that's for other reasons, girl."

"Go teh 'ell, lards."

"Now may we pick up where we have left off?" she asked happily, hopping off the sink and ready to go. "No, I think you've had enough rough housin'. Wash yo' face an' get somethin' to eat." the drummer advised, stretching lightly, "I think I'll grab somethin', too." Putting the extra bandages away, Russel left the room and with a less than gentle rub to her head, Murdoc quickly followed. The restroom was awkwardly quiet as the girl patted her leg and glanced up at the bluehead, attention currently snagged by the wall. Slowly his eyes reared downward, fingers curled around his wrist, giving it a squeeze with each passing second. "Yo' a better player 'an me, anyways..." he muttered quietly, rocking gently on his heels. Rolling her eyes with a smile, Noodle knew this to be somewhat true, but allowed his precautions of gender to go by _this_ time. Lifting her in a careful bridal style, the singer hiked off towards the kitchen with the subjective preteen, not too chafed by his chivalric behavior. It was a rare moment when the girl allowed her gender to benefit her need; however, the friendship of a friend was not normally needed in this instant. Just wanted. And they were both fine with that.

* * *

_Author's Note: Hope you liked it. As much as I love football, I'm usually left out when its a "man's" bonding time, so whatever. WE GIRLS CAN DO WHATEVER WE WANT! Gotta love guys though. Everything's funnier when they mess up. Uhm...if you guys have any ideas (not that I'm ever out of them), but maybe something you say or suggest will give me a greater mush of story. Or I can continue on my own. Your choice. Review. _


	2. New Generation

New Generation

It was nearly a quarter to three when the first cry was heard. Three in the morning that is. The moon barely shimmering a fade of mist over the lands below, choosing where to shine and where to decline. The night was peaceful and fragile, unlike all those that had been haunted by the undead or crying ghosts. Obnoxious things they were. The trees naked in their season, swaying with the occasional scratching of branches or snapping of twigs, light wind throwing spurts when necessary. The sound of the late night early morning was very calming, and even tempting to dare a nap in the midst of the graveyard. No one would be stupid enough to risk such a chance, but the idea was available to any soul who wanted to die an early...painful...disgusting death.

Within the restraints of the studio off in the near center of the carpark bobbed the Winnebago, the weight of its master moving from one end to the other in search of some cigarettes forcing its pressure on the tires, though it did not matter. He barely drove the godforsaken thing anywhere, anyway (as if anyone would let him). Leaning forward, the raven haired rhythmic mastermind ran a few fingers over his scratchy multicolored cheek, realizing he'd need a shave before the pigment of age caught up with him. He pressed his elbow against the counter top before him, nestling his chin within the crook of his palm, pondering the purpose of his journey, the point of enigma. To his left was Cortez, tucked deeply within the world of dreams and at this point, no return. Smirking, the ex-con ran his pointer over one of the sleek wings, gentle enough to not startle nor wake the creature. He knew many things that the others did not. It was the beauty of confiding in something that spoke two languages, especially when those languages were incomprehensible to those who were not in the circle of trust.

However, those others were not completely useless. They did earn him a bit of cash and entertain him from time to time. Even made him feel special on occasions or forced him to care about hygiene, though he wasn't too keen on the subject. He could've sworn a smile leaked out once or twice, but it could've been the drugs or booze. They weren't strangers...and...maybe even more than roommates. Band mates, yes, he'd call it that on the exterior. What were they really to _him_? Well...it didn't honestly matter. They just weren't useless was all. Completely useless, pardon.

And then there was always the ability of sharing. Hm...this was something Murdoc Niccals enjoyed the most about being both leader and provider of a home (even though it was mounted on the gates of hell). It was the borrowing ordeal that made him fancy the idea of...friends. Those idiots could have the _nicest_ things. Nicer than he? Well, why buy when you can borrow? And by borrow...use then never return _or_ use, break, and lie. It was only the greatest plan conjured in the history of mankind (in his opinion) and he was just about to perform it. Careful to not wake his beloved pet, Murdoc tenderly stepped out of the trailer home and casually waltzed over to the singer's door, checking the locks first. The knob spun a full semicircle. _Wot a tart..._

Not quite the smartest thing to do in a land infested with night crawlers, but Murdoc shrugged it off. He had been slightly forced to care for the safety of his band mates, though he rarely gave it much thought. Without them, there's no Gorillaz. No Gorillaz, no paychecks. Freezing in place for just a split second, the eldest member wondered what the youngest was doing, sleeping in a chair besides the wide bed, then recalled the doof complaining about pains in his gut after eating some greenish pizza. Possibly thought it was vegetable topped or something. However, Noodle's posture was unacceptable in his opinion. Neck bent, arms twisted, legs crunched, back hunched...no. Taking a few steps in, he used the light of the carpark to find his way through the floor (the singer was never known as a neat freak), gathering the teen up with a little more strength than expected and placed her gently on the bed beside the blue haired god.

Almost immediately, her body responded by curling and cuddling up to the closest thing possible, Stuart Pot. After a good minute, he decided to leave it be, rubbing along his side and silently opening the nightstand drawer, needing not to hound for more than two seconds before he found the pack of Lucky Lungs he had been craving. Pulling one out with utmost care, he tucked it between his lips, grabbing the lighter right next to a copy of...what was that? Rise of the Ogre? Glancing over his shoulder, Murdoc arched a brow and grabbed another fag for emergency, setting the carton back in its proper place to shut the drawer. Not exactly _his_ choice of a typical bedtime novel, but the dullard on the other hand _did_ have his days. Good read, couldn't argue with that, but bless the poor soul expected to voice-over all quotes to sound like the actual speaker. Now, it wasn't exactly proven that the singer had such a habit, but Murdoc could bet his life that tomorrow morning Noodle would wake up with a hoarse throat from imitating yours truly. It was just too predictable. The piano man just had a way to make her do almost anything without much effort on his behalf. Having somewhat of the talent himself, Murdoc did use it on occasions...but it always required using that word...began with a "p"...

The singer just knew how to say it without stuttering. Even repeated it over a hundred times if he had to. Strange though...Murdoc usually only had to say it once for it to work...or act as if whatever the deed was really meant something to him. _That_ took some practice. Either way, he was positive Noodle had a softer side for the thin bluehead anyway, best friends always ruled majority. Rolling the lighter within his fingers, he eyed the scene once again, nearing towards the door.

He supposed he _would_ have to defend them both...after all, he needed to protect his guitarist's reputation as well as his own just for the simple facts. She was female. The press always loved a good juicy story about some skank in high waters pretending to know how to live the game of life. Not his Noodle. She was a good kid. Well, barely kid anymore, but still. Good enough. Only one who seemed to honestly care, anyway. He owed her for that...

Noisy as death, the bassist closed the door behind him, deciding right away it was far too hot and sticky inside the carpark to have a smoke. The smell of exhaust and fumes from his own doing were not going to mix well in his stomach (or head). Running his fingers through his hair and down his neck, Murdoc climbed through the exit zombies always broke in through, the nice hole in the wall. You'd think they would have fixed it by now...

He sat quietly after a good bit of shifting around, sighing softly as the cool breeze hit him in a thrust, whipping away any form of tired heat on his body. Slowly, he closed his eyes, taking in the only form of life besides himself, chest out and strong. Nevermore did he enjoy a moment such as this when he wanted to be alone and not think, but feel. Feel the world around him. Wonder what it could be like if any different. Sleep with open eyes.

Pinching his fag, he steadied it in his mouth, adjusting his vision a crack just to light the damn thing when he heard it. Clear as a bell with the essence of alarm. Furrowing his brows in disturbed confusion, the dark bassist rose from his seat of broken cinder blocks and pocketed the plastic flamer, taking a step towards the sound. "Eh?" he muttered quietly, ear out for a reply. There it was again, but more angrily. It was a scream...no...cry. An...angered cry. A cry calling for comfort...a cry wanting to be pacified. Extending his neck out, the infamous Brit began his search between tombs and graves, knocking his knee against one every three steps or so, "Aw shit..."

He found it near some bushes, barely wrapped inside a thin, sea green blanket on top of a dirty, stripped pillow. The cries continued until Murdoc was above him, staring down in a stunned manner. His large chocolate brown eyes gazed up at his multicolored ones with fragments of hope lingering between each bat, dirty...cold...hungry. Rubbing his face before crouching down, the bassist squinted at the tiny being, inspecting his face. He shared the same facial structure of he and Hannibal. Interesting. The creature gently hiccuped when the band leader scooped him up, settling his tiny crown on the left shoulder, pure breaths tickling along the hairs of Murdoc's neck. "Left yeh out 'ere like a fuckin' godfersakin' dog..." the middle aged rocker grunted almost spitefully, his hands curving around the young one's body in a form of protection.

His legs became...almost graceful in his manner of walking, avoiding any stone or obstacle that had made a fool of him earlier. He was careful in handling the starting life, wrapping the blanket up over his head and holding him away from the winds rather than against it. His chin...nudged the baby's head as he peeked into the carpark from the outside, preparing himself for his entrance. 2D and Noodle appeared out for the count when he raided the room, and Russel hardly ever came down unless it was of utmost emergency. Murdoc took a moment, glancing down at the broken bits of cement. Hm...no, wait. They refilled the fridge two days ago. He was safe.

Hugging the small one to his chest with his left, the bassist grabbed the edge of some half glued bricks poking out like a poorly played round of Tetris, kicking his right leg in and settling it down gently, pulling himself through with ease. The baby gurgled in his shirt, however since he obtained an empty belly, there was nothing to spit up. Back against the wall, the dark one eyed the singer's door, a mess of spray paint loaded on the door, but it did not open. Hurriedly with young one in arms, Murdoc broke in a run right until he was in front of the Winnebago, quickly unhooking the door from its latch and shutting it tightly. The abrupt movement had woken Cortez, now circling above his master in a sleepy fashion, but the baby's eyes were large and staring, confusion radiating from his tiny face.

Shaking his head with a smirk, Murdoc Niccals poked the youth's belly, peeking out from behind the passenger's seat to spy on the door. Still closed. He had made it. Taking a well earned breath, he sat on the descending stairs, holding the little guy at bent arm's length to really examine the extended blood of his doing. "Hm...yeh got some ears on yeh, don't yeh..." the man muttered to himself as the child sucked on his own fingers. It was true. His ears were a bit popped, but nothing a little hair couldn't fix eventually...or tape. The top of the month old's head was covered in dark brown fuzz, somewhat matching his eyes, yet those were a special color all of their own. Murdoc was sure he had never seen such a pigment before as he poked his nose against the other's, gazing deeply into the irises of an innocent life. Again, the child hiccuped, this time releasing a slight whimper.

"Right, right...'ang on..." the bassist sighed, raising himself with a cough. He was almost positive he was running low on formulas...It was just so hard to find good varieties when the world (or your band mates) stalked your every move. Yanking open the mini fridge, Murdoc shifted around a few beer cans before finding two cans of formula, "Yo' lucky kid...nearly out. Cortez, find me a bottle." The Winnie bounced with each step Murdoc took, careful to not make too much noise. He'd shoot himself if word got out. And possibly the one who spread it, no matter who they were.

He seated himself on the edge of his bed, pushing himself in reverse until his back was aligned with the wall, kicking off his boots in the process. His hand reached out to Cortez, bearing an empty bottle in tow. "Thanks, mate. 'at'll be all." he dismissed, watching the bird settle down on the table and curl back to sleep. Lowering his head a bit, the olive tinted song writer dug his nail under the tab, snapping a hole in the aluminum top. With precision, he attentively poured the entire can into the plastic bottle, discarding it in the sloppiest aspect to spin the nipple tightly. Through all this, the auburn haired infant, nestled in the musician's lap, watched...almost admiringly as his feast was set before him. This savior had come...taken him from the lonely ditch of the outside world...into a place of sanctuary...of refuge...of...love.

Could he possibly understand what was happening around him? No...he was far too young to. Right? Shaking his head, Murdoc tipped the container and poked the nipple between the child's lips, smashing it against his nose. Almost instantly half of the fluid was gone, leaving the bassist in both marvel and empathy. Who knew how long this kid had been out there? Who knew when his last meal was? ...Only the child. If he could even remember that far back. Nearly three quarters of the way down, the small one stopped sucking, a strange irritation gorged out in his expression. Tucking the bottle between his knees, Murdoc heaved the boy over his shoulder, tenderly rubbing gentle strokes between two to three seconds each. After a good minute came the watery bubble of air, calming the tot down into a sleepy daze, barely able to see the eldest clearly. A meager shadow of a smile crossed the bassist's face, though one could mistake it for anything other than what it was. Laying him delicately into the crook of his right arm, the jailbird poked the tiny flat nose, scarcely uttering a sound, "Yeh look like...an Angus..." Blinking sleepily, the baby yawned, nothing to insinuate a negative pulse on the option.

The bassist stared at the child with a bit of humane...compassion, "...Angus it is." Watching his eyes glaze over, Murdoc sighed, looking at what the kid was wearing. He was zipped up in a filthy, dirt stained, blue footsy pajama suit, cuffs as dirty as the graves outside. "'ate teh say 'is...but yeh makin' me give yeh a washin'." the eldest groaned, tugging at zipper, almost positive the child was mentally thanking him. It took five minutes to throw out the rancid clothing and gently sponge him down, careful to avoid his healing belly button. Way in the back of his cabinet he found a spare diaper and pulled off a tiny tee from some stuffed animal Noodle had given him for his birthday one year. Smirking, he read the shirt to himself, "_Innocence is overrated._", chuckling at such an irony. The smile soon disappeared as he realized what was next to come. The young one was nearly asleep, snug within the comforts of the lumpy tan mattress with little to worry about in his small world of enclosure. He knew nothing much of the real world outside of this protective barrier...nothing of what could happen within the barrier.

This thought somewhat upset the bassist's stomach. Firstly, he would be..._hurting_...his own spawn...and secondly...he could possibly be discovered. But this was necessary...absolute. Rubbing the side of his neck, Murdoc backed himself near his closet, eyes never leaving the child for more than a second. Silently, he opened the door and grabbed the suitcase placed neatly on the furthermost right side. It was black...a leather case with wasted handles. It had played its role for a long time, the past etched into its worn skin. Setting the case beside the infant, Murdoc unhooked the golden latches, pulling out two clear plastic gloves for himself. Avoiding any type of eye contact with the child, he slipped them on with a snap, cracking his fingers quickly to rid his nerves. Never did like this part...but then again...he did.

Clearing his throat, he slowly lifted a small syringe, a dark purple fluid barely taking a forth of the capacity in the tube, and within this, a microscopic square. Blinking softly, Angus merely eyed the things around him, sucking on his fingers when there was nothing to entertain him. He didn't mind the cool napkin wiping his thigh or the shiny tool the giant man stared at for a minute. It was the unbearable pain that shot through his leg and up his spine that disturbed the child into a shocked and angered scream. However, it never made it past Murdoc's hand. "_Shhhh!_ Awright, shut it! Quiet, yeh 'ear me? I 'ave teh do 'is, so shut it!" the olive toned man hissed, finally pulling out the empty needle from the chubby leg of the offspring. It dropped to the floor and rolled under his bed as he traded the weapon of pain for the frightened, pained youngster. "Awright..." he whispered, cuddling and prodding him, "Shhh...its over...'at's it..."

Though the pain had been bothersome, the quick, bounced rocking seemed to do just fine as a soother and sleep inducer, lulling the little boy into a spooked and hiccuping dreamland. His large tears soaked through Murdoc's shirt, and possibly into his heart, as the typical rock star slowly sat on his bed with the child's face in the crook of his neck. The small body shuttered on and off, as if remembering the event in replay even when the throbbing pain had subsided. It was almost a test for Murdoc...just to see what out of norm action he would perform next, but nothing was too strange for the leader to rely on. He closed his eyes, resting his right hand on the back of the baby's head, thinking...breathing...living.

Releasing a pent sigh, he opened an eye, catching the hour off his wall. "S'bout time I drop yeh off..." the dark one whispered, lifting the slumbering child off his shoulder. He tried to take a mental picture, but he knew too well that he'd soon forget it until the next one came along. Giving one last humane gesture, the bassist poked his large pointer finger within the palm of five miniature ones. "I'll find yeh when I need yeh...we 'ave us an army teh build, don't we?" the shady Brit grinned foully, and in shadow, one could almost say the infant agreed with its gurgled smile. The wind seemed to pick up outside, and silence was no more.

&&&

The singer's door opened momentarily, revealing a very sleepy and dreary guitarist, hair sticking in all the wrong places and crick in the neck to match. Her fingers gently massaged the pain away as her sight caught the bassist off to the side, arms crossed with his cigarette between his first and second fingers, eyes closed as the rainy breeze drizzled him wet. Curiosity beating her exhaustion, the Jap gently closed the door behind her not to wake the one in the room and soundlessly crept alongside the bassist.

"'ad a nice nap wit the dullard, love?"

Frowning a bit, Noodle tilted her head to the opposite side of the pain, "Actually, I do not recall ever seating myself on the bed, Murdoc. Perhaps _you_ would know something about it." Smirking slightly, his arms unfolded and applied the lung killer between his lips, wiping the drops of rain from his face, "Per'aps I would..." A crack of thunder shook the ground, shooting a strike of lightening across the sky. If the outcome hadn't been so loud, it might have been beautiful. Pulling her sleeves over her icy hands, the teen rubbed her eye, glancing at the bassist. He seemed distant, but then again, none of them did hold onto the clasp of reality. She parted her lips to ask if something was off, but before she could, he opened his eyes and snickered, "Yeh enjoyed it either way." Cheeks huffed, Noodle punched his arm, sure to leave a bruise, but not a break, and turned on her heel, mumbling darkly of her elder. Never would he grow a heart or change his evil ways. He'd still be the same old dirty, heartless, cruel, and malicious Murdoc Faust Niccals he'd always been.

Watching her leave in her irritation, the bassist glanced up at the sky, tossing his fag towards the graves. There was a future in store for them all. He...his band...his children...the day would soon come. It was building. Slowly, but surely. Until then...he'd have to be Murdoc Faust Niccals...today...tomorrow...forever...There was a war out there and when it came his way...he'd be ready. He'd always be ready. Because he knew...he knew the outcome. A Niccals never lost.

* * *

**Author's Note:** _I guess its a little longer. (sigh) I'm a bit nervous. I'm playing one of my teacher's wives in our senior talent show (which is more like a high school version of Mad TV) and I have only 5 lines, but I've never been on a stage before and I'm hoping to the mighty one above that I don't forget my lines the night of the show. That would suck. (deep breath) Oh well, what happens, happens. I wrote this out of stress. And it's a bit different, I noticed, but I do believe there is a softer side to Murdoc than meets the eye. How else would he recreate the innocent "Bambi eyes"? XD_


	3. My Girl

My Girl

Crisp cool wind wisped around the streets of the United Kingdom, and Essex to be exact, whirling around little broken bits of colored leaves or lightweight garbage, temporarily dropping them for a moment somewhere only to whisk them elsewhere as soon as the next breeze blew through. It was the very beginning of October, and most people out and about on the streets were found with warm wool hats, frozen hands stuffed inside their windbreakers, or those smart enough to have gloves on fumbling with their scarves or lifting a warm arm to rub their pink bulbous noses, without a doubt knowing the winter season was well on its way, but not just yet. Mothers had the worst of it, though, making sure their little ones were bundled enough to waddle their way besides them whereas men casually strolled down the walks, glancing at the new Halloween decorations or costumes hanging up in shop windows while taking a sip of their nice hot beverage, whether it be tea or coffee to warm up their frozen lungs.

It was on this particularly chilly day that two famous rock stars decided to spend their time together, as promised, in a charming terrain called Larmy Park. It was the closest playground to the haunted Kong Studios, and it was neither disturbed nor contaminated with zombies, which was great considering they could use a rest from it all. The weather had been checked before entered out into, and the Gorillaz drummer had made sure of it that his little friend he took on as a precious sister or even to the extent of 'daughter' was warm enough before heading out with her much taller comrade who was planning to go wearing only the clothes he had scrambled to put on when he woke up, which happened to be a pair of light faded jeans, flat brown strap boots, and a double sleeved shirt: white on the sleeves, but black and orange on the chest with a message of 'I rode Harley' and a shaded woman's figure in the background.

When the young child came toddling out with a thick winter coat, barely able to see with the hood stuffed to the max with scarves, multiple hats, and a large pair of green fluffy earmuffs, the skinny halfwit and hefty American decided to come to an agreement that the warmth little Noodle was bearing needed to be shared in equivalence with 2D. This being said, Noodle disappeared with Russel upstairs while 2D made his way downstairs, and after a few minutes, they both reappeared on the main floor, this time wearing enough to see and breath easily, but also enough to keep warm and not seem ridiculous. And so, gloved hand in hand, elevated 2D, in a brown leather jacket, paled gold and red pleated scarf, and warm burgundy hat with flaps keeping his ears toasty, and tiny Noodle, nestled in a baggy light green hoodie with a warm navy sleeveless vest zipped up to her chin and white to gray hat of artificial fur keeping her noggin freshly snug, the two made their way down the steep steps of Kong, for there were no zombies out on this oddly bright day, and strolled down the blocks of nothingness until civilization came into view.

Looking around excitedly as she began to see other children beside herself, Noodle grinned up at 2D, tugging his hand in exhilaration as she pointed out the obvious on the sidewalks, chest filled with delight. Giving her a curious glance, the singer smiled warmly, beating against the chilled weather with a comeback, "Almost 'ard teh believe there are other kids out there when yo' cooped up all the time back 'ome, in'it?" Deciding to skip beside the man in joy knowing the park wasn't too far off, the girl agreed, "Noodle only girl in home." Chuckling lightly, 2D shoved his hands into his pockets, feeling the sharp sting Noodle was lucky enough to avoid with her nice warm mittens, "Well, tha' ain't ever gunna change unless someone builds a 'ouse round us…which'll prolly be never." he explained, patting her bouncing head every time she popped up from her skip.

Walking alongside the black iron gate dividing sidewalk from park grass, the lanky singer eyed all the fallen leaves around, finding the view very appealing, though messy at the same time, "But yeh don't mind 'angin' around wit us blokes in Kong, do yeh?" Stopping to pick up a leaf, Noodle tilted her head, giving it a gentle hug before blowing it from her hands, "Noodle like Kong. It big. Have 2D-san, and Russel-san, and Murdoc-san inside." Stopping his own lanky bounce, he looked around suspiciously, crouching down to whisper in Noodle's ear, "But yeh wanna know the best part?" The girl's dark green eyes stared at him in eagerness to know with a bobbing nod. He cupped over her ear so only she could hear this grand secret, "Noodle's inside Kong, too."

Rising to his full height, he smiled at the guitarist's large beam, her childish features extending to every part of her face. They continued on to the gate, 2D holding the strongly hinged door for Noodle as she zoomed past to run for the jungle gym off in the corner of her eye, but froze when she was halfway there, realizing she had abandoned her friend by the gate. Running back, she grabbed his hand gently, beckoning him to follow with a rush, "2D-san! See? Play with Noodle!" Giving the twisted metal contraption a once over, the bluehead gave a weak smile and lifted her on, "You go 'ead, love. I'm past my time teh be gettin' tangled up in there." Shrugging, Noodle clambered up, one bar at a time, to the very top of the monument, peering down every so often to make sure her companion was still there.

The singer's eyes roamed around as Noodle had her fun, noticing the few other kids that were there were chasing each other with cheerful giggles or diving into piles of leaves with glee, and he almost felt guilty that the little Japanese girl who had come into his and his band mate's lives by chance didn't know any of the neighborhood children. Back at home, Murdoc treated her like an adult most of the time with business-like interacts or musical practices, Russel treated her like a younger family member, always watching her cautiously, but it was 2D that kept her in touch with her childish side, making sure she had fun at least once a day, whether it was from taking her out on a day like this, or merely ruffling her hair with a stuck out tongue in a silly playful manner they both enjoyed. Heck, she was a kid, ten to be fact. Children needed fun more than anyone and understood it like no one's business.

"2D-san!"

Shaking himself from thought, the young man peered up at the top of the jungle gym where a figure was waving down at him, and he waved back optimistically with a smile, "Yeh made it, love! C'mon down!"

"Cannot!"

"Wot?" the bluehead stated, left brow arched, thinking he must have misunderstood.

"Cannot come down! 2D-san help?"

Now, with both brows raised worriedly, the singer stood directly under the child and beside the three poles meant for sliding down once the child reached the top. Sitting comfortably on the ledge, the small child peeked down at him with a smile, swinging her legs freely, "Hallo!" she waved, her other hand keeping a firm grip on the bar. Offering her a nod, he motioned with his pointer finger to come down, "Awright, love, yeh wanna try the teeter totter next?" Bobbing her fuzzy covered head, the guitarist agreed, but looked around nervously, "…Cannot come down."

Shrugging blankly, 2D sniffed, holding his head up, "Why not?" Hugging the bar next to her, Noodle swung her legs again and pointed down, "Noodle fall! Not want get hurted…try touch pole, but it cold." Rubbing his head, the singer wondered why he hadn't remembered the occurrence before. Noodle could always climb to the top, but it took miracles to get her down, and last time, she had Murdoc trying to get her down, almost having her cry as he threatened to leave her and head for home. No one was exactly sure why she never could get down; she seemed almost suicidal in Kong with her crazed stunts. Placing his hand on the bar, he assured Noodle was telling the truth as he breathed warmly on his fingers, feeling them almost go numb.

With a stretched out arm, his fingertips could brush the bottom of Noodle's sneaker, but that was it. "Noodle, yo' gunna 'afta slide down a bit on the pole if yeh want teh get down…" he explained, tapping the bottom of her shoe he could reach. Giving him a fearful glance, she buried her chin in her hood, shaking her head, "Cannot! Noodle fall!"

"No, yeh not gunna fall! I won't let yeh! I promise, awright?" he coaxed gently, stretching his arms out, but she only watched him as the breeze pushed her hair back in a frosty gust. Reaching an arm out that held in the air, she whimpered, "2D-san…help…" Sighing heavily, the tall singer knew she wouldn't give into her fear and he being much more understanding than their short tempered bassist, he slowly made his way to the start of the climbing bars, calling himself crazy for the act about to be pulled. "Awright, angel love…I'm comin' up for yeh…" he sniffed, shins banging against metal and arms getting tangled in the way they snaked around to the top. How kids found fun in climbing that mess, he'd never know. Maybe he just hadn't been a normal child? He could remember when his mother would bring him to parks like these…he enjoyed just hanging around the sandbox…when jerks weren't guarding it and willing to shove it down his shorts.

Seeing Noodle wasn't too far away, he reached a lengthy arm over and tapped her shoulder, having her jump nervously in fear of tipping over. Her worried façade quickly dropped, however, as she wrung an arm around 2D's neck and pulled him forward, almost having them both fall off as he lost his balance and fell against the spaced bars, hitting his chest hard while his cheek was nuzzled in gratitude for his bravery of making it to the top to get them both down. "Okay, okay! I'm 'ere! But yeh gotta stop 'uggin' me if yeh wanna get down." he chuckled, taking in that the view from the top of the jungle gym was rather lovely, yet powerful. Maybe that was Noodle's reason for risking it?

Releasing him slowly, Noodle flipped her legs to face him, and held on tightly to the sidebars, wondering where to go from there. "Awright, see if yeh can get on m' back, Noodle." he suggested, and little by little, the girl made it, hugging around his neck while she dangled like a Velcro monkey, giving him an even tighter hug when he finally reached the bottom. "Noodle! Not around the neck!" he coughed, tugging at her strong little arms before she could suffocate him to death. Letting go, she fell to the woodchips with a crunch, keeping her view to her feet while the singer rubbed his neck and fixed his falling scarf. "Ari-ano…Noodle…sorry." she apologized quietly, at first correcting herself for her loss of words as her small hands buried into her front pouch pockets.

Features morphing into tenderness, the piano man patted her shoulder gently, "Not sayin' tha' yeh can't 'ug me, love. Yo' jus' pretty strong an' yeh could 'urt someone if yeh catch 'em from be'ind." he clarified, wrapping his overgrown arms around her small frame, receiving a thankful hug in return. "2D-san still play with Noodle?" she asked hopefully, large dark green eyes shimmering with anticipation. Patting her head, he glanced up, eyeing the seesaws over to the left, "Ehm, let's forget about climbin' for the time bein'. 'ow 'bout the teeter totter?" In a jolt, Noodle had the singer soaring behind her as she zoomed forward in a speedy bolt, halting before three large metal planks connected to a pipe stuck in the close-to-concreted ground.

Rubbing his head gently, the singer watched the small child seat herself at one end of the seesaw, placing her tiny hands on the safety bar with fingers curled, giving him a blank eyed stare as if to say '_Now what?_' Slowly hiding his hands in his jacket pockets, 2D tilted his head, knowing something was wrong. Noodle's end wasn't going up. Eyes traveling bit by bit to the other end of the plank, he realized the lack in the equation: another person to weigh Noodle up. Sighing shamefully, the singer scratched his head, looking around, "_Duh, yeh need two kids teh make 'is thing work…c'mon Pot, yeh can do better than tha'._"

"2D-san?"

Blinking back into reality, Stu peered at the awaiting child, elbow propped to hold her chin, "What waiting for?" Biting his bottom lip with his own version of front teeth, the vocalist searched around for any child who could be Noodle's partner. "Well, love, yeh need another kid in order teh work 'is thing." he explained with a sniff, ending his wandering gaze on her as he rubbed his pink nose. Her response was that of confusion. "Not need that…2D-san say _he_ play with Noodle!" Pointing at the other end of the board, she smiled, patting her side patiently, "Sit."

"Huh?" the singer questioned, eyebrow pulled up as far as it could go. "Sit down!" the child ordered, nodding her head towards the opposite end of the plank. Squinting an eye at the girl's innocent mentality, he twisted his mouth to the side, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. It wasn't just the fact of how ridiculous he'd look, but…no…no it was. A grown man, especially one of his own height, teetering and tottering with a young child who resembled nothing of him…many passerby who didn't know who he was would assume horridly of him and the entire day might turn into some unreasonable altercation with Russel and Murdoc explaining that the young girl was _family_ in a matter of speaking.

Offering her a gentle smile, the young man tilted his chin at the end aligned with his chest, "I'm a bit too grown for tha', love. I'm a bit too grown for any o' the stuff 'ere…" he muttered, wringing his wrist behind him. "I didn't mean teh be such a letdown…I guess I forgot 'ow tiny ev'rythin' is compared teh me." Patting hand at a frozen rest against the chilly metal, the petite axe princess glanced up at the man, eyes holding a cold emptiness...far colder than the weather bashing them, and much more frigid than any demeanor Murdoc could muster. Swallowing roughly, the musical genius couldn't remember a time where he had felt more worthless and downtrodden, as well as guilty. "2D-san...not want play Noodle...?" she whispered to herself mostly, however her words would not have missed the gap toothed keyboardist's ears by a long shot. "O' course I wanna play wit yeh!" he defended, arms shooting out to his sides in reaction to prove his point, "I'm just...well...not _old_...but not exactly a ki-aww...awright, awright, I'll figure somefink out..." the zombie loving expert sighed, left arm akimbo as his right hand rubbed along his eyes, refusing to view anymore of a pouting, slouching, eyes watering, shivering and nearly heartbroken girl.

Coming to the park had been his idea after all...what a disappointment _he_ was. What would the girl tell Russ and Muds when they got back? That her day with 2D had been unfathomly lame and uneventful? This could even debate whether or not the karate junior would ever want to spend a day with him again. No, he had to make this right...even if it meant degrading himself. He didn't want to lose the attention and affection of his little angel. She was a different kind of friend than the other two. Not that he would trade Murdoc and Russel for anything in the world, but Noodle gave him something only an innocent child could. She brought him peace and happiness of the purest kind. She understood him in a way the others could not, and for her, he would give up the world.

Moving his hand from his eyes to his chin, he gave his jaw a gentle squeeze before inhaling deeply, then motioned for Noodle to stand. "Awright, let's try it 'is way. We try teh keep the board balanced so it's even for us teh both get on," he elucidated, bending low to grab a handful of the metal grip and watched as the decade child mimicked his move. Carefully lifting his leg over the plank, the singer scrunched his nose, wondering if it would be better to stand or squat while Noodle got on, blowing heated breath into his hands, regretting that he had forgotten his gloves. However, he forgot that and much more as the youngest band member was less than graceful when flipping her leg over in a kick, swinging her entire body (and all its weight) atop her end of the seesaw with a little more enthusiasm than necessary. It might have slipped her mind in her state of excitement that what goes down...must come up, and realized it only too late when her best friend's face paled faster than a dead man's as he collapsed into a limp fetal position. Deserting her post, the chubby cheeked guitarist dog piled herself on top of the blue haired god, his body trembling and shuddering, however, certainly not from the cold, "Noodle sorry! Noodle sorry! Not mean to hurt! Noodle sorry!" she whimpered, hugging the unnerved Stuart Pot.

Releasing a strong exhale, 2D swallowed stiffly and lifted a shaky arm, patting a twitching hand on the girl's back, "I-It's ok-okay lov-ve...I....kn-know yeh d-didn't...me-an it..." he gasped, finding large flashing lights where everything else was supposed to be, and after a long moment, he was able to tell what was human and what wasn't. The same hand that had comforted Noodle was now pressing against his eyes, trying to push away the throbbing pain that was without a doubt going to develop into a migraine. He had enough throbbing pain to worry about. Setting the weary hand firmly on the ground, the elevated keyboardist lifted himself to rest on his elbow, his other hand still dug between his legs. "Okay...gimme a minute..." he breathed, sniffing heavily. The young girl appeared to be in no hurry, her body still thrown across the singer's, faced down, her cheek against his shoulder; however, facing behind him.

Finally feeling it was safe to remove his protecting hand, 2D cleared his throat quietly and leaned forward to get off the dirty leaf clad ground, lifting Noodle with him. "Let's try it again. 'ow about I just push my end rather than sittin' on it?" he offered feebly, still gung-ho about keeping the girl's entertainment at bay. Brows lifted worriedly, the youngest tilted her head in a curious manner, wondering if the singer's lights had been knocked out as well. "2D...still want play with this?" she asked uneasily, knowing if there was a will to play (and hurt him), there would be a way...Continuing on would be asking for it.

Rubbing an itch away with his shoulder, the young pretty boy nodded with a small encouraging smile, "No worries, love. I ain't dead yet!" he winked, waving his hand for her to get on over to the other end of the plank. Quickly lifting his collar to protect his neck from the gush of wind, he eyed his feet, "Though the idea of future kids might be..." Settling herself down on the grounded play tool, Noodle quirked a brow, squinting her view of the man preparing himself with arms raised, knees bent, and feet spaced, thrusting all his body weight down on his end as the tiny guitarist's shot up, popping her roughly in her seat. The singer's duration ran out within seconds, sending the girl back to earth with her face frozen in stunned shock. "A-Are yeh okay?" the bluehead fretted immediately, knowing the ride had been a bit coarse, but the miniature musician's frozen expression instantly melted into nothing but pure excitement for the adrenaline rush now pumping in her veins. Not even the roller coasters Russel allowed her to ride in carnivals were _that_ unexpected and wonderful. "Fun! Fun! More!" she giggled, clenching her teeth into a grin as she gripped on for the next ride.

Fear smoothened away, the singer chuckled, once again throwing his strength towards his upper body, "So yeh like tha', huh?" The girl's squealish giggles answered him justly, doing his heart well to see her in such high spirits. It was times like these where he felt his life wasn't completely useless, as Murdoc daily reminded him otherwise. If he could make a child smile, someone so innocent and pure, he was sure he was doing something right, and, possibly, good. However, after a few more times of lifting and dropping, the young man began to feel the weight of band's guitarist, and realized how much of a workout it was to lift someone of seventy five pounds or so, feeling the strain on his back, but mostly, his feeble arms. He wasn't exactly a body builder of any sorts and lord knows he wasn't the type to go picking fights. No, most of his confidence, if any, was stored into his musical talent, where, best be told, it should stay.

"'ell," he breathed, scrunching his nose and clenching his teeth, feeling the burn throughout his body, "I'll be feelin' this tomorrow..." It was amazing how quickly the body could require water within a matter of minutes. Yet, Noodle's gleeful cries by no means ceased, unlike Stu's inability to keep up his strength. It was after two and a half tries more that his arms began to slowly shake, his face twisting into ridiculous gestures only pain could induce, lungs burning in a way that he could never appreciate, no matter how cold it was. "Noods," he gasped, blinking hard as dots began to clot his vision, "F-Few more times...an' we move...onto...somethin' else...right?" Holding his end down with his exhausted body, 2D rubbed his eyes roughly, resting his knees on the seat of the board, and glanced up for his friend's answer. Giving him a thumbs up, Noodle snapped her thickly gloved hands onto the handle, readying herself for the last thrill. The singer gave her a contented nod, holding onto the edges of the seesaw, but he slid his knees off too quickly, preventing him from tightening his muscles in time to slow the momentum. A bang echoing for blocks around greeted the ears of many as the mini Asian slammed into the hard concrete and was ejected from her seat, spinning and clouting a good two feet. However, the minor bruising she was going to get never crossed her mind as she ran across the small area to where the singer had been thrown after her weight had nearly destroyed his face within seconds.

"2D!" she screamed, prodding his chest profusely, at once realizing he was unconscious. Her worry elevated when she lifted his head into her lap, and a delayed backup of blood released from his nose, nearly spraying out like a rampaging hose. "No, no, no, no, no!" she cried, kissing the poor man's forehead over and over with a tight cradle. Her eyes teared up before she could say anything else, pouring down her paled cheeks with a blink, "Please, be okay! Be okay! Please! 2D-kun!" she squealed, pausing her wails instantly when the man groaned, eyes fluttering weakly without much intention of opening. "Wake up..." she whispered, rubbing her friend's forehead and pinching tenderly between his eyes. A minute passed before his eyes made any movement again, lifting halfway as he did his best to focus, his first view being that of the ten year old's teary, yet mellow face.

"N-Noodle...? Oh......_fuck_..." he murmured, shakily raising a hand to touch the tip of his nose, finding fresh warm blood all over the tips as well as tasting the metallic sting of it. Taking a deep breath, the singer slightly lifted himself (with the help of his companion), leaning forward to spit out the blood that had seeped into his mouth, watching the globs, drips, and cups of it make a good sized puddle before him. Noodle only hung back, knowing she couldn't do much at this point. She didn't have an ice pack or his medication. All she could think of was how it was her fault he was injured and how despairingly guilty she felt about it. A jittery hand patted around the singer's jacket, looking for the pocket he had stored a few tissues in, just in case the weather had played tag with their noses. A small hand reached in easily, handing him the wad he had stuffed, and pulled back, fumbling within the other as the owner watched the man patch his nose with snow colored materials, soon bathed in rubies.

Wobbly getting to his feet, 2D tilted his head back in attempts to stop the flow, pinching just below the bridge of his nose. How he knew if the flow would stop, Noodle would never know, but after a moment, he blinked and gave a satisfied grunt, possibly meaning it had. Careful not to shake his pounding head too hard, the thin musical genius winced at the enormous amount of blood on his hands, careful to keep them away from his jacket, although a few drops had made their mark. He would have to dust himself off later. Glancing to the side, he noticed the child he had brought with him was gently rocking the padded hat he had once been wearing, it cradled between her arms in a motherly manner, her dark jade eyes gazing at it longingly before meeting his in liable self-loathing suffocation. Noting her wet cheeks and disheveled hair, the young man sighed, "Guess tha' wos stupid, o' me, eh?"

After receiving nothing but the same stare, he rolled up the warm sticky mess in his hands, "Are yeh okay, Noodle? Can yeh move everythin' fine?" This time he got a nod, but nothing more. Deciding this must have scared the girl a good deal, he figured changing the mood would be a turn for the better. "Fanks for savin' me 'at." he smiled, and she glanced down at it. Her expression hadn't changed much. "Love, tha' wosn't yo' fault," he started, looking back at the abandoned planks, "Don't you dare think it wos, yeh 'ear me?" The child shot forward, wrapping her arms around his legs, resting her cheek on his lower stomach, "2D-kun..."

The sight nearly broke the singer's heart. "Aww...scared yeh there, didn't I?..." he sighed, wishing he could comfort the girl, however he lacked clean hands. Nodding, she looked up at his further damaged face, "Noodle sorry....are you okay?" she asked quietly, watching him poke his highly sore nose.

"As fine as I'm gunna eva' get." The songwriter smiled, giving her head a rub with his elbow, "An' wot did I say about thinkin' it wos yo' fault? I'm danger prone, you know _that_." he chuckled, rocking side to side in a small dance until the small girl began to giggle and finally released him. Pleased moods were in higher spirits, 2D squinted around, spotting a public park restroom building not too far off from the swing sets. It seemed a few kids were there, which would benefit Noodle and give him a chance to clean up while she was entertained. "Oy, love, I'm gunna go clean myself off in the washroom ova' there," he nudged her, pointing his chin to the swing sets, "'ow about yeh shimmy ova' to the swings an' keep yo'self busy while I do tha'?"

Finding the suggestion reasonable, the karate junior (and 2D's hat, both agreeing that it staying with Noodle would prevent it from falling into the sink or toilet when he washed his face), walked away from the deathtraps she had just played on to a simpler and more carefree form of joyriding. As she grew closer to the triangular shaped contraption with elongated chains attacked to rubber seats, she found that there were only four seats free (six in total including specialized seats for babies that no one could ride), all riders being boys. Either way, she was fine with waiting her turn, seating herself in a small pile of leaves as she waited...and waited...and waited.

Growing bored with the idea itself, Noodle crossed her legs into a diamond and placed the singer's hat in the center of her lap, resting her elbow against her knee as her chin sat in the crook of her palm, a small sigh escaping her. "Wot are _you_ waitin' for?" a voice suddenly snapped at her from above, her eyes wandering around until she realized it to be the boy closest to her swinging back and forth. "Want a turn," she answered, griping onto the pole behind her to get up.

"A turn? G'luck wit that. No girls allowed '_ere_."

"You ain't from around 'ere, are yeh?" spat another, looking at Noodle with somewhat of disgust, "Yeh talk funny."

Cheeks flushing in annoyance, the guitarist dug her heel into the dirt below her, the singer's hat dangling in her grip, "Want a turn! You on long time!" The two boys who had minded her existence stopped pumping their legs to laugh at her pitiable attempt at them to acknowledge her demands, throwing her dirty looks and rude sneers. "Oy, learn some proper English. Bloody foreigners think they own everythin'." one said to the other as the second agreed, ruffling his dark brown hair. His mouth seemed to have been attacked by a boxer of some kind, teeth missing in a scattered pattern, his dark blue eyes filled with a foul, yet powerful animation, arms clung to the chains rather than his hands that were dug far into his hood's pockets. The other, blond and green eyed, had a perfect set of teeth in number, but by far from perfection in alignment. The tips of his hair seemed to bother his eyes with his constant head jolting, a smirk mustering every two seconds. It seemed whatever the brunette happened to blurt, he agreed with, which made the situation harder for Noodle. It was two against one, or four, but the other two were much larger and she wouldn't bother with them.

These two before her merely played the parts of best friend bullies, picking on anyone younger than them or who were different through gender. Unfortunately, she seemed to fall into both categories. They swung for a few more minutes as Noodle sat down once again, hugging the hat of the owner she wished was presently beside her. With him on her side, perhaps these jerks would have allowed her a turn, or at least she would have fought for it. She knew she could handle five of these untrained nose diggers, but she also knew fighting was not proudly looked on upon by her older mates unless it was under rightful cause. Grimacing wearily, the small Asian shook her head. Even for her age, she knew this wasn't of any cause to get rough. It was just plain annoying. Resting her head in her hands, the axe princess closed her eyes for a moment, opening them to find that the boys who had forgotten her presence had run off to the other end of the park where an ice cream vender had strolled along to. Though it seemed a little chilly for such a snack, it was her break to enjoy the equipment she had been patiently awaiting.

Dusting herself off in a rush, the young girl seated herself where the auburn haired boy had retired in previous, securely placing the singer's headgear between her knees, stepping backwards as far as she could go (all the way to her tiptoes), and released, starting off in a slow swing, her pumps increasing her flow. A large smile had replaced her bothered pout, flying through the air freely without a care in the world, and she soon forgot everything and everyone around her, the wind flowing through her as she became one with the frosted air.

"OY! Get off my swing!"

Eyes opened to a bothersome sight of the bullying pair, side-by-side, chocolate smooth rectangles clung in their fingers, corners already bitten off revealing the frozen vanilla inside. Scowling at the nasty tone the boy had used, Noodle pumped her legs even harder, nearing the boys inch by inch, "Not your swing! It for everyone!" Clenching his teeth of her defiance, the young boy lifted a fist, "I said get off me swing. Now do it 'fore I make yeh!" he hissed, chomping off another bite of his treat. Ignoring his threat, the jaded eyed girl closed her eyes, trying to once again feel the wind without being interrupted by a couple of fools. She did her best and it seemed to work until her back smashed into someone, roughly stopping her and nearly throwing her forward, however she kept her grip on the chains, glaring over her shoulder. There stood the follower, a small grin shadowing his lips, his hands gripped just above her hands on the chains. "Get off." he smirked, receiving a harshly thrown jab of an elbow straight into his gut.

"Leave me alone!" the girl growled, knowing this phrase by heart, it mostly used on the bassist when he liked to tease her every now and then. The boys, however, did not heed her warning, nor favored her action towards the blond. Quickly recovering, any trace of his smile had vanished into a dark contortion, almost sending her a message of "you shouldn't have done that." Shaking his head while grabbing the girl by her arms, the brunette throttled her a bit, shoving his face into hers, "Yeh don't know 'ew yo' messin' wit, princess. Now, I'm givin' you to the count o' three. One...two..." Noodle scrunched her nose, knocking her head against his before he could continue, stunning him for a moment, but not enough to pause his revenge. Tackling with a snarl, the boy flipped her off the swing and pinned her to the ground, his friend adding onto the dog pile, not quite forgiving for the chest pain he was suffering from. Not exactly expecting this response, Noodle squeaked, having the weight of two boys on top of her as well as a small headache from the first whack against the brown haired boy and the second against the concrete. She couldn't quite place her finger if anything else had happened, but she did know someone (she wasn't sure who) had grabbed her ankle, and she did her best to pull herself up and defend her being, however, she couldn't. It wasn't long before she didn't have to.

"WOT THE 'ELL ARE YEH DOIN' TO _MY GIRL_?"

The relatively calm and shy pretty boy hadn't seen much since he left the washroom not too long ago, but what he did see lit a treacherous fire within him enough to burn down all of Essex. How dare these two hooligans touch his Noodle. How _dare_ they. Fingers gripped into the tightest fists he had ever made in his entire life, the man charged, eyes boiling with undying hatred, his typical dense smile replaced with a gap toothed snarl, all traces of lovability erased on his darker than hell features. The two barely glanced up, eyes shrinking at the demonic looking creature speeding towards them faster than a bullet, before they thought it best to abandon the idea of defending their swing post. Scrambling against each other, the two boys yelped, their somehow saved ice creams thrown onto the floor in order to get to their feet faster.

Deserting the swing set, the two scattered around, realizing that the horrifyingly fuming looking zombie man had not stopped after the swings, but was hot on their tails, ready to skin them both. It was a good three minutes before the two jumped the gate of the park screaming for their lives and continued down the street, refusing to take a moment to see if they were still being chased. They didn't want to risk the chance. Slamming right into the jagged iron, the singer leaped onto the two-inch lift the design of the gate offered, gripping onto the pointed javelins as he leaned as far as he could, feeling the tips nearly puncture his chest, "YEH BETTER KEEP RUNNIN', YEH LIT'TLE PUKES! SLEEP WIT ONE EYE OPEN, YEH 'EAR ME? NEXT TIME I FIND YEH, I'M RIPPIN' YO' FUCKIN' THROATS OUT! NO ONE MESSES WIT MY GIRL! NO ONE!"

Chest heaving with more emotion rather than exhaustion for the high speed chase he had just given up, the blue haired twenty three year old ran his fist under his nose in a sniff, spitting in the assailants' direction of escape. Stepping back onto the ground, he spun on his heel, treading back to the girl who had watched the entire scene with some keen interest. Immediately, he kneeled down, dusting her off as quickly as possible, then bound her in a tight hug, resting his cheek on her small head, "Oh, angel love....did 'ose fucks 'urt yeh? Are yeh awright? 'ow's yo' 'ead? Shoulders? Back? 'ey didn't _grab_ yeh nowhere, right?" he asked darkly, glaring over his shoulder, but the child shook her head and returned the embrace, a small build up of tears lining along her view. No...there was enough of that for today. Swallowing hard, the talented guitarist glanced down, biting her lip as she broke from the singer's arms, lifting her own to place the hat she had been protecting snuggly on his head. Heart liquefied at such a gesture, the musical god offered her a warm, tender smile, rubbing his nose against hers with a quick peck to the tip, "Fanks...yeh want some ice cream?" he asked quietly, nodding along with her silent response.

Together they walked hand in hand towards the vender, a small sundae for 2D, chocolate chip cookie dough cone for Noodle. A bench lay just before them, making their rest quickly enough. Their attention seemed to focus more on their licks and spoonfuls rather than the other, however the short melodious member gently rested her head against the singer's arm, and instantly he rung it around her and pulled her in close. Closing her eyes as a smile pulled her cheeks up, she nuzzled her face into his belly, peeking up at his giggle. "Thank you." she sighed, taking another lick at her treat, "2D-kun save Noodle."

Chuckling, the song writer held his cup with his right hand, his left crossing the girl's view to scope another bit for himself, "No worries, darlin'. I ain't about teh 'ave some over grown snot buckets come along an' push my girl around. I won't 'ave it." he said with a nod, giving her a heartfelt squeeze of his own. Tilting her head in his grip, the child blinked curiously, "2D-kun...my girl?" she repeated with a small smile, enjoying how protective it sounded. Glancing down at her with an arched brow, a sly smile crept upon the singer's features, a sneaky hand finding its way to her side without notice....that is until her ticklish spot was attacked. "Tha's right! Yo' my girl an' if anyone ever dares teh mess wit yeh again, 'ey gotta go frew me! Yo' my lit'tle angel love, forever an' ever!" he declared, both hands running at her sides, his empty cup left forgotten where he had been sitting. Noodle, however, still had half of her ice cream and had somehow managed to keep it from falling as she rolled from side to side on her back squirming, high pitched squeals and giggles peaking from her lips.

"Okay, 2D-kun! Okay!" she breathed, wiping the joyous tears from her cheeks, finally allowed a break. Patting her hat, he held out his arms behind him and bent his knees, popping her up securely once she latched on. Arm around his neck as she finished her cone with the other, Noodle rested her head on his shoulder, a pleased aura about her. "Oy, love?" the singer soon asked, making his way to the park's entrance with a soft stride.

"Hmm?"

"Wot's coon now?"

"Huh?"

"Yeh said it wit me name."

Closing an eye in thought, the piggybacking Asian brought her other arm around his neck, pulling him into a gentle hug, her eyes closed happily. "2D-kun," she smiled with an affectionate snuggle, "Special."

Tilting his head back, the young man returned the gesture, "Aww, tha's lovely, Noods..." his voice drifted off as his mind seemed to wonder towards other thoughts. Glancing at the gravel adjacent to the sidewalk, he kicked at some broken leaves, creating a small wind of colors. Meekly peeking at Noodle's somewhat forward face, the singer frowned guiltily, "I'm sorry today didn' exactly turn out as planned, love. We both got '_urt_ an'...well...I didn' mean for it teh be so disappointin'." he shrugged, receiving a forgiving pat to his head. Noodle nearly rolled her eyes at the singer. When was he going to realize she enjoyed anything they did together, whether it was successful or not? The time spent together was worth much more to her than anything they actually did. The bluehead suddenly chuckled, "'ell, imagine wot we'd tell the guys at 'ome if they asked about today?" Puffing out her chest, the guitarist knew her answer already. "Noodle say, Noodle 2D-kun's girl!" she belted, and the thin pill addict felt the day had gone a lot better than he had planned, walking against the chilly wind leading them home.

* * *

**Author's Note**: _Well I had planned for this to come out on Valentine's Day, but considering I finished it at 12:22 in the morning of the 15th, I suppose I've gone over my deadline. Oh well. Just cuteness filled in this one anyway of an everyday outing. I enjoy seeing the characters living out their lives, as we do, like ordinary people. A favorite of mine is the first chapter (or snippet) of this collection, where they're all playing (American) football. Just something I needed to note. Anyway, I'm glancing at the last author's note I left from the last entry of this collection and I feel like kicking myself for the delay and rut in writing I've had._

_Last time I updated I was a senior in high school and now I'm in my second semester of college freshmen year. And its funny, seeing as I had been talking about being in a senior talent show, and a few weeks ago, I went to see it with this years' seniors. Now that, my friends, is pathetic. I have no excuse. I've been reading my unfinished stories over and over, trying to think of their continuations. I honestly have an idea to make another story as an add on to Double Minded, yes that story that I wrote AGES ago. And not just that, but perhaps a third, both containing two completely new characters that I've had developing in my mind for more than 3 years now. Also, I need to continue Crashed, which somehow was deleted from my computer, but not from the site thank God, so at least I'll have that to work from. Its amazing how I still have loyal readers who continually favorite or review my old stories, as I do get those wonderful alerts whenever such events happen. It does my heart good to see my work is still appreciated. I'm completely thrilled Gorillaz are coming back, even if its just a few demos (and Murdoc looked like a bat out of hell), that's more than enough for me. Hopefully it'll warm up some of the good old writers back into story mode and fill my days with a good few hours of read like the good old days! –GCOE (I'm back my faithfuls!)_


	4. Buried

Buried

It was a semi cloudy day, rays of sunshine peeking through the graying cumulus, not strong enough to entirely break through the mass of darkness determined to overthrow the turn of weather. For the rest of Essex, it was an unusually bright day, a slight chill in the air from the remnants of winter, but just warm enough to simply toss on a windbreaker and be on your way; however, for the small patch of land under the title of Kong Studios (hell's gates for those who knew of it), karma deemed it forever immoral, a constant punishment for the aura eternally surrounding it. And so for the four residents of said land, their three choices of weather were decent, made of clouds and shine, horrid, stormy and cold, or hellion, when clouds simply capped the skies and allowed the unfriendly undead to awaken from their slumber with growling bellies (or whatever urged them on to feast).

Off to the slight corner of the massive building and opposite of the left wing (and the nasty landfill occupying it), was a barren patch of dirt, untouched by the many, many tombs decorating the front and backyards of the Kong estate. It was here that Noodle, the eleven year old professional martial artist, and guitarist of Gorillaz, declared her new hobby to be acted, setting a tiny flag among the bland malnourished soil, marking her territory before she skipped off to find the largest band member. With a thousand forms of begging and three different pouts, she was finally granted permission to perform her undying enthusiasm to start a little garden all of her own. In said spot she would be able to plant pretty little things, something Kong lacked highly of, and use the space to meditate on days such as the present. The novice Zen garden would be the child's pride and joy, and perhaps _finally_ she would feel like she truly belonged to the Kong land…and more importantly, the band.

It was no secret that the young girl was quite a bit different than the other three tenants who accompanied her everywhere she went. Her age and gender alone set her aside from the three grown men who stomped around the building as if life itself wasn't good enough for them, spending their time partying, fighting, smoking, and eating, if not complaining over the quality of their own music. It never made sense to her why the frustration was centered on the music itself. If they only eliminated the causes of their hangovers and headaches in all sense of the word, then perhaps practices would proceed much more easily. But, she was merely eleven years old. They would never listen to her. It was always a quick pat to the head and a push out the door. She hadn't learned broken English for nothing.

Dusting her hands off, the young Asian scanned over her tools proudly, taking the hand shovel by its round handle to admire it. Well…her pleads had won her something in the end, now all she needed to do was settle in. A gentle breeze brushed past her, blowing her short hair out to tickle her cheeks, rubbing her nose. The large drummer had specifically instructed her to wear a slicker over her clothes, for he was not a fan of scrubbing dirt out of clothing, although one would think blood would prove to be a chore just as difficult, and so clinging widely to her small body was a rubbery yellow one with boots to match for the mud. Underneath she had tossed on a pair of overall shorts with warm multicolored cotton tights to shield her legs from the teasing winds, a short sleeved tee with an animated panda face printed up front, but not much could be seen of his outfit aside from the leggings sliding thinly into the oversized galoshes. Shaking her head, the girl patted her fleece aviator, fingering one of the kitten ears poking out up top, wondering which flower would do her to honor of being planted first.

She slowly squatted down, pinching the dry dirt between her fingers as she adored the six or so potted plants before her, just waiting to slowly die over time in the polluted soil. It seemed an unnecessary fact to mention to the child that soil was not just soil when it came to planting, and just as humans required a certain amount of nutrition to survive (how Murdoc and 2D had made it along, she'd never understand), plants depended on a steady diet as well, and grew according to their intake. But simply allowing her a hobby seemed to be the best answer. There was not a doubt in the drummer's mind that the poor girl was understandably _bored_ when they weren't on the road and forced to withstand each other's presence. Not a child for a few good miles, and he couldn't blame a family who actually cared about the well being of their beloved children. And although Noodle wasn't any ordinary child (being a pro ass kicker in a sense), part of a world famous band, she was as childish and observant as the next little tyke down the street.

Squinting down, the young girl scratched her cheek with her shovel gripped knuckle, scraping off the first layer of dirt with the flat side of the spade, clearing off any little rocks, bits of cement, and dead grass for her first heartfelt plow. The crows nested along the rooftop cawed and circled when she shoved the spoon in, glancing up for a moment to mutter her curiosity, for they never circled unless something had died (or risen…a considerably popular event within the lands of Kong). She watched them for a moment, taking a deep breath as the next wave of wind washed over her, piling the barren dirt to the side. It fascinated her how birds could merely float over her head three stories up with hardly any effort on their behalf. It seemed almost motorized, as if invisible strings were holding them in their circular rotations, wings perked and tilted with the occasional "Rawk".

Her brow arched when the first crack had popped through the air, startling the birds out of their never ending circle. It echoed around the land, reverberating along the invisible walls that surrounded the cursed property and through the landfill, slapping at her tiny heart, but not her nerves. She kept a steady head under all situations, and though she couldn't understand what was going on, she understood it wasn't natural, even for the land of the Gorillaz. Another.

And another.

And by the fourth, she ran to the side of the cool stoned building, brows knit tightly as her cheeks pressed up, back pressed flat against the wall. The shovel she held so securely in her grip dropped to the ground, thudding lightly when it hit the hard earth, scraping it away with the tip of her boot. A piece of cement from the very corner of Kong Studios itself chipped off in a flash of light before her eyes, screaming for the sheer range of the mini explosion. And the pops paused, quickly replaced with sharp heavy crunches and jagged breathing. Her eyes squeezed shut as her ears picked up a familiar double click, quite unmistakable with her experience from living in a violent prided household, and held her breath, only hoping all would be swift and painless and free her from the comprehension of dawdling torment and anguish. She would miss this land with all its strange oddities and all the neat attention she obtained for being a talented young lass as herself…the opportunity to ever play a melody ever again and the creaky floorboards of her room…the bizarre sunsets and sunrises Kong seemed to own all to itself…and…her brothers…

A twang of guilt ran through her, from the center of her chest down to the pit of her gut, running her fingers over her slicker covered belly in a dash, most likely the last movement she'd ever make. Did they know that's how she understood them? Categorized them? Knew them?

…Loved them?

They were all she knew. Never would she trade for another, better, more qualified, responsible, or attention providing bunch. Comprehension held a wide gap between her and the males of Kong, but that's where the learning process began, and it hadn't been all that bad. She had only wished she could have translated that sooner. Her heart pumped for the three, fingers curling into sweaty little balls. If only she could have been…a true Gorilla…

"Noodle?"

The child's throat constricted as her eyes slowly lifted open, blinding her from the shut pressure, but soon enough the outline of a human figure clarified with each breath, the white blanks filling in quickly with dark details, and a surprisingly curious stare. His unique eyes squinted down at her with a sniff, capping over for a moment while he shook his head, thrusting his rusty shotgun against his shoulder, barrel pointed towards the heavens. Good thing he had checked around the corner first. He was sure he had heard a scream…and a lively one at that. Plenty of practice warned him that something was amiss with the last one. "Christ…wot are you doin' out 'ere?" he sighed, hanging his head to the left as he wiped his hand on his rotted blood splattered jeans, eyes darting around for any sane reason the girl would be out by herself running the lands of Kong without care when she could be inside doing…something. He wasn't exactly sure what the child took her time doing when lost within the deathtrap of a maze the ancient building was (something he ought to know, but just didn't have the _time_ for), but he was positive it didn't include being nearly murdered by one of her band mates (unless Russel had cooked with spoiled food, of course, which had accidentally happened on more than one occasion). He stared at her numbed frozen features, just about ready to snap his fingers before her eyes to make sure she was still breathing (something he wasn't sure how exactly it assured _breathing_, but a reaction was something he hoped for), when her shock ridden gape slowly closed, forming a heavy trembling pout with a lack of tears to match.

Furrowing his brows, the bassist glanced over his shoulder (just in case) and squatted to her height, setting down his gun next to him to grab her shoulders and spin her roughly, tilting his head this way and that, eyes darting as quickly as shooting stars, "Fuck…did I nick yeh? Lard'll 'ave me head." he muttered in a tone unusual to Noodle's highly trained ears. Was that worry she was picking up? And not just for his own well being concerning the possible lacerations Russel could and would bestow on him before stomping him six feet under without the need of a casket? He was inspecting her thin little arm, rubbery sleeve crunched back for a fierce ogle at her skin, when she softly uttered, "No." The Brit's eyes lifted up and locked with her emerald ones, a bit of relief soaring through him and lifting the nasty indigestion he had been stirring up. He released her, dusting his hands off (as if he had touched something icky) with a touch of boredom to his features, "Well, good. Not exactly in the mood to be searchin' for another guitarist…or do jail time." he yawned, grasping at the gun, "…Just yet, anyways."

He sniffed slightly, and she assumed that last bit had been directed at the second half of his demotivations. "Listen, get yo'self inside bef-Oof!" the disgruntled eldest grunted, nearly teetering on his backside with child in tow. The gun was now a few inches away from him from the force he had dropped it, the tiny girl now curled up against him, bright yellow arms wrapped around his neck, making him debate his common sense over squatting in the first place. His feet were beginning to fall asleep, especially up front where the boot crease was cutting off his circulation. Lowering his risen brows, he simply hung in her grasp, mentally questioning her motives rather than voicing them. The girl still wasn't all that great with his language, although she _had_ learned a lot within the year. She knew enough to get around, but not enough specifics.

"Brother."

Pulling his head back, he culled the child at bent arm's length, cheeks scrunched up into a wince as his brows furrowed deeply, but not angrily. Simply, confusion. "Brother?" he catechized, repeating to merely validate that his hearing was not in fact going from the ridiculous multitudes he enjoyed listening to, and the little Asian offered him a tiny smile.

"Brother."

"…Brother."

She nodded once again.

"Yeh don't want a brother." he answered, patting off his jeans before standing up, just in time to be thrown off balance slightly from the numbness in his feet. Shaking his legs out, he dug inside his toffee leather jacket for a pack of Lucky Lungs, shaking the packet until the lucky winner poked out. It was quickly lit with the first drag before the next wind could threaten him, "I '_ave_ a _brother_. Nothin' but money 'ungry thieves. An' they expect yeh to clean up after 'em. Not rooms, mind you, messes in _life_. Yo' better off as an only child." he scoffed, blowing out a foul smelling cloud, dispersing into the next channel of winds. Pazazzu really seemed to be going all out. The girl's hands dug into her pockets, staring down at the gun. And why exactly did she want him as a brother, anyway? He hardly spat a good reason, if any.

"So…wot are yeh doin' out 'ere, anyways?" his voice coughed out, foolishly taking in a breath when he had blown out at the same exact time the wind smacked it back, whacking himself in the chest. Rolling her eyes, the child turned, scooping up her shovel and wiggled it at him, though she wasn't sure he could see it with his tearing eyes, "Garden." Giving himself a gentle massage where he had brutally attacked himself, the bassist arched a brow, watching her walk around him and towards the few potted plants she had been deciding between, tilting his head back as it all sunk in. Who in their right mind allowed this to happen behind his back? Brows falling flat, he jerked his thumb at her, shoving his other first into his pocket for warmth, "Yeh _do_ know they're all gunna die, right?"

Tossing him a fierce glare over her shoulder, the young one kneeled down and continued her digging as if the previous event never had occurred. "Not going to die. Noodle take good care. Water every day. Take out bad plants that hurt good plants. Pretty garden. Noodle garden." she muttered, scraping the pile a little further away from the hole so she could dig deeper. Roots often grew quite long and required lots of elbow room (even with a lack of elbows); she would do the plant some justice to give it exactly what it deserved. "It 'as nothin' teh do wit you, Noodle. The land's just shitty. Wotever nutrients the soil used to 'ave…it doesn't 'ave it now, so witout that, yo' plants will die. Plain an' simple." he sniffed, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand, taking in a whiff of Lucky Lungs at its best. Shoving in the pointed spoon, Noodle ignored him, plowing through the tough dirt. It seemed she had hit a rock. Pouting slightly, she began to dig around the object, her frustration levels building as she discovered whatever it was happened to be larger and more rectangular than she had thought. Grumbling as Murdoc prattled on, she reached down into the hole, tunneling her fingers into the dirt until she reached the bottom of the blockage, curving her hands under and up, popping what appeared to be a firm shoebox from her planting spot.

Murdoc's voice seemed to fade away against her curiosity as she tilted the box in her hands, slowly getting to her feet. A heavy weight inside thudded to the further end of the box, sending the other end up near her chin, nearly tapping it. The box was old and clot covered, bits of grass and rubble decorating every inch of the once fashionable container, most likely from the late twenties, if not slightly after. Had some child buried their most precious treasures within it? Had some adult? A small smile perked along her lips as she batted away some of the dried mud gluing the lid shut, scraping some off with her thumb nail. She could barely make out the bassist's change in tone, or the fact that he had begun to alert her in a strangely nervous way, "Noodle, I wouldn't-"

But by this time, it was already too late. She had opened it. Or at least peeked. And with that second of a lift, it had shut immediately and been thrust into the Brit's chest, all light and determination robbed from her. She gently seated herself next to the gaping hole, shoving the dirt pile back in with her bare hands, ignoring all tools near her. "No more garden." she whispered, and even that was broken into pitches the bassist could only understand as broken. His guitarist was broken. And all because of some idiot who had chosen to place the box exactly where she had wanted to garden (successfully or not). His eyes swam between the space in the midst of the child and the rotten box in his hands, slightly disappointed with the outcome of the event, and this surprised him. Feeling pity on others was not something he was accustomed to, and towards the girl? Even less so. Early on upon discovering her he had sworn each member to be treated as business, and although the relationships were a tad tweaked (because they _were_ roommates after all), he still did his best to treat everything as such, including the child, and far be it from him to ever dare mess with unwritten rules.

His eyes fell on the box once more. Then to Noodle. Then to the box again.

Well…perhaps…just this once. Shaking his head, he disappeared behind the corner, puffing a cloud of smoke as he turned from the fag between his lips, crunching the dead grass along the way. By the time he returned, Noodle had covered up the entire hole, kneeling on the spot with her head hung, lips moving very slightly. He never knew the guitarist to be religious, nor was he aware if she even had a religion…something he then felt awkward about. Facts like that were often resolved along with a person's name and age. 'lo. Murdoc Niccals. Thirty-five. I play Satan's fiddle. Or 'e plays mine. Depends 'ew's askin'. Such facts were helpful for personal knowledge and the census. Jesus freak or Darwin geek? Yes.

The bassist patted off his hands on his thighs, ending up close enough to cast a rather large and intimidating shadow over the girl, but she didn't move, nor waver her muttering, constricted in the little facedown huddle she was in. Her hair hung over her cheeks, her knees dabbed with dirt, arms clenched over her belly, eyes squished shut. A hand rested on her shoulder, at first simply resting…then stretched out its fingers to clench, lifting her up as the other hand helped. "Noodle…oy, Noodle, open yo' eyes."

Her eyes remained shut, her lips still mouthing.

A sigh.

"Listen, wot's done is done. We all move on. Even little fuzzies."

A pause.

"Just…plant wotever. It'll-"

"No."

Murdoc arched a brow at her as her eyes suddenly popped open, void of any emotion. "No garden. No more." she whispered, her eyes eventually falling. The bassist's lips tightened as he lifted his hand to pat her shoulder, but it merely hovered a few moments very indecisively until he curled it into a fist and dropped it, shaking his locks out. She remained silent, shifting from one foot to the other until his arm swung around her, snagging her close into his chest as he curled his right arm around and gave her shoulder a little rub. "Can't let tha' stuff bother yeh. It's gunna come whether we want it to or not…so we make the best o' it. It's wot 'umans do. It's why we make music."

The girl scooted her chin up, gazing at the man before her as he looked off behind her, most likely past the graveyard, the landfill, and even beyond that. He seemed unreal and yet honest…this was the man she had labeled brother. A very tiny smile escaped. "Music lasts forever. The world can turn forever an' it'll always be free…free from rules…free from logic…free from everythin'…because everyone loves it. It's wot we do. We're Gorillaz." he nodded proudly, releasing the girl and glancing down, but it seemed she was refusing to let him go. There _was_ something infinite out there and she _was_ part of it. Her cheek nuzzled the belly of the man who had just assured her of everything she had doubted, adding an extra squeeze in there for meaning.

_We're Gorillaz_.

She was included.

The bassist cleared his throat a tad louder than necessary, tapping the top of her head with his pointer, trying to cross his arms for added effect, "Erm, Noodle? Yeh mind?" As if she was deliberately trying to upset him (or confirm an answer), the child gave him one more squeeze, releasing slowly with a lighter look to her than previously. The Brit seemed to be back to his regular self, peeling himself away from her breathing space, taking out another cigarette while glancing around in a strange instant reaction of paranoia, quickly calming down as soon as the fag was lit in his mouth. May zombies eat him alive had anyone accidentally witnessed the little show of comfort, but luckily they appeared to be alone…for now, anyway. "So, uh, no garden, eh?" he asked, snapping the lighter closed, and the child shook her head. Disturbing one grave had been enough for a lifetime. "Hmm."

Murdoc glanced over at the plants simply waiting to be cared for, however it didn't necessarily matter how they were cared for, as long as they were watered. Picking up one of the plants, he motioned for her to hand him the other, "Well…yeh ain't wastin' good money for these things teh just die out 'ere. I'm sho' if anythin', I taught yeh that. Let's get 'em to yo' room. It'll be like a garden, just witout the mess. Make some room for 'em an' all that." he instructed, carefully juggling a third as Noodle lifted the fourth. Her brows were knit worriedly while following him from behind. She was sure Russel had planned for all this to be outside, and on top of it all, she was covered in dirt. He was going to be awful cranky about this. Her head lifted as she tried to utter a "But!"; however, Murdoc glanced over his shoulder with a light glare, as if daring her to question his authority.

"Its goin' in yo' room, Noodle. Lard'll just 'ave teh deal wit it." he stated, waiting for her to open the back door to the carpark as the weight of the plants began to take a toll on his back. He followed the child inside, closing the door with his foot. "Yo' not doubtin' a _brother_ now are yeh?" Her lips curled up across her face, and that was enough answer for him. He was her brother.

And she was his sister, too.

* * *

**Author's Note**:_ And I'm back again. I will probably be uploading another short story today, if not tomorrow. I wrote half of this during my breaks between classes (I have lots of time to kill), and I enjoy the peace in the computer labs and the privacy the under level tables have. I will be away during spring break, and so I bestow upon you two new reads to make up for the next chapter I'm supposed to be submitting soon to Memoir of a Satanist. *throttles self* I'll get down to the nitty gritty soon, no worries. Between G Club, Twitters, and concerts coming up, there will be loads of motivation on my end. I mean, what's a better picker uper than getting a text from Twitter from Murdoc himself being chased by Russian pirates while he's in drag? (And I was in my drawing class while reading this. Imagine the self control I needed for that.) Amazing. Btw: My inspiration for this was going to a pet shop and petting bunnies. My mind is a twisted mess. _


	5. Bubble Gum

Bubble Gum

Rosy…flexible…sugary…somewhat dusty…and, of course, flat with little jagged lines engraved across as if someone had personally driven their car over it to get the design just right. It was so perfect, so _clean_, unlike much of what he dealt with in the God forsaken dumping grounds he had learned to call home. A bit of personal pink poked out along the corner of his lips, carefully and daintily pinching the item along the sides as he lifted it from the peeled open silver wrapper. The smell was oddly pungent, wafting out from even before he had chosen his very special friend, calling through the small rectangular shell as it swam around him and into his nostrils. It smelled…delicious.

"Candy."

The young man's eyes slowly lifted open as he realized he was getting a little too involved in his dissection of a rather enticing treat. The gum was still tweaked between his fingers, hovering directly under his nose. Had he been sniffing it this whole time? How awkward. And caught in the action, too. Although the onlooker wasn't quite as hard on him as anyone else would be, her interest was in something much more valuable than a chance to merely amp her ego while downgrading his. Lids curving down a bit, the blue haired singer eyed the treasure in his grasp, then peered over his shoulder at the child hanging over the back of the couch, her head as tilted and perked as a curious puppy: immense doting green eyes, tiny button nose, radio helmet that was entirely too large for her own head…she might as well have been one. There was something about those chubby cheeks that scrunched up her nose while curving her eyes in, that radiant twinkle that expelled in the very air around her, that mask of curiosity when she touched everything that moved (or didn't move), crooked teeth poking through her excited grin, a demand to learn and entice her brain further (for she was eager to communicate with the three new men she had met upon her birth from a box).

Her little finger lifted from its grip along the red cushion; jabbing at his obviousness, "Tewoodee candeeee…hummm…" she tried, careful of her pronunciation. She did her best, she truly did. It was merely the fact that the language these men spoke was so different than her native tongue…they had sounds that just didn't exist in her vocabulary…not yet, anyway. She had quickly realized that merely pointing to anything and everything wasn't going to get her very far until she learned the names of said objects and the actions they could perform, if any. It wouldn't hurt to correctly pronounce the names of her new comrades, either. They did their best to accommodate to her, they really did. Well…the green one, not so much, but the large one would literally take her by the hand and the tall one, the one hording his little stash from her, why he had broken her free from that awful crate. And he wasn't nearly as scary as those creatures that roamed the land and sometimes got in. He did look a bit odd, but he was a tender soul, she could tell. He never yelled, even when he was angry, and he often whistled, a curious thing considering the teeth up front were missing from his set. He liked to take naps after his medication was taken (she assumed he often suffered from a severe head cold since he was always pinching his nose and rubbing his temples), watched cartoons when no one was around, and played video games within the depths of his room. She knew all these facts and more on the singer alone, unbeknownst to anyone, really, considering she couldn't express such known things, but the only one who had any inkling of the slight spying the young girl did was 2D himself.

It had been one too many times he had opened his bedroom door and the child had just been there, simply staring up at him, quite emotionless as if lost or in need of something, but nothing was ever sought after or retrieved from these visits. With a quick head scratch, he'd offer her things he assumed young children liked and she would merely look at it, curious of his friendly gesture. Other times, he'd turn around after getting a can of beer or picking something off the floor and there she was, an obstacle in his walking path. He had even become weary of his bathroom visits, anxious and embarrassed if he found her waiting for him outside in the hallway, wondering if she had heard him relieve himself during her sit for however long it would take him to come back out. It hadn't bothered him at first, but lately he couldn't help but feel watched wherever he went, whatever he did…she would be there. Why was she following him so closely? It was a question he would often try and ask her, but there wasn't much body language that could correctly clarify such a thought, and so she would gaze up at him and his awkward dance until she giggled, muttering something cheerfully in her own language. He was sure she tottered around after his other two mates…maybe not Murdoc as much, but she was often found with the drumming American if not in _his_ shadow. Giving her eager face a once over, the singer leaned forward a bit, bottom half of his face hidden by his shoulder. She was a cute little kid, nothing horribly evil about her, which was quite odd bearing in mind her newest home wasn't exactly the purest spot on the earth, but…for a child she acted a bit oddly around him…like she was expecting something…

"Metamon!"

A sleek card immediately slid into his vision, spooking him for a moment out of his thoughts. "Uh-wot?" he fumbled, nearly dropping the stick of gum that he still hadn't sacrificed to the saliva gods. Squinting for a moment, he slightly turned back towards her, adjusting his seating right ways, and plucked the card from her fingers, receiving a fearful gasp in response. The card was quickly stolen back as she scolded him for his roughness (or so he deduced), but decided to give him a second chance, climbing up and resting her belly against the backrest, hanging over as she held out the card for both of them to see. It was a Pokémon card, a favored pastime of the girl's (as with everything else she did), they assumed. Holding herself up with her elbows propped, her finger slid along the shiny collector's token, smiling when it stopped on the squared off picture, tapping the creature inside it, then at the singer's gum, "Metamon!"

Arching a brow, he took a look at the cartoon creature, scanning his mind over all he knew on the show, which wasn't exactly a Pokédex full, but just enough to recognize the character. It was a pink blob, and honestly it's all he had to go by. Aside from eyes and a mouth, it was simply…a blob.

Ditto.

Smirking at his own talent of remembering things when necessary, he tapped the picture as well, nestling in a slight mound of smugness, "Ditto. 'e changes into other Pokémon, yeah? S'all it can do, really. But I suppose tha's all good considerin' it can use wotever it turns into's power. I like the ghost ones, meself…like Haunter…an' Squirtle. 'e's cute." he smiled, having lost the child the moment he opened his mouth, but she listened all the same. Pointing at his gum, she tilted her head, then flicked the picture on the card, "Metamon! Tewooodeee?" she tried with a hopeful determination in her eyes, and he gave a slight nod, lifting his foot along his knee.

"Tha's right. 2D."

Her smile grew, glancing down at the card once again, "Tewoodee-san. Noodle…noodle, noodle, noodle." Arching his brow a bit higher, the thin singer tugged at the collar of his gray oversized t-shirt, pulling it back to where it should be. He glanced down at the gorilla head sketched out across the front, mouth wide, proudly bearing its fangs as the eyes glowed a lovely red. His eyes quickly shifted back to her admiring face gazing down at her card before she hastily put it away, darting back down before she could notice. He doubted she would. Not many were able to read his eye direction; it required too much attention…but then again, she _had_ been clinging on for an awful long time…maybe she was catching on? Shaking his head, he rubbed the dust along his fingers, pressing his thumb print into the mold. The girl seemed to think every expression, thought, or idea could be elucidated by simply stating 'noodle' within every sentence she tried to say. Lowering the brow, the young man sighed. In more ways than one, the girl herself was somewhat of a Pokémon.

A gentle thud earthquaked the couch, the little Jap sitting with her hands crossed before her, watching the Brit as he eyed her. He was a fascinating creature. Not quite a child, and not exactly adult. She poked his arm after a minute, wondering if he had frozen in time, but his sniff assured her he was living and breathing as sure as the cloudy grimy sky outside. "Wot?" he asked, opening his mouth a bit as the gum was half bitten, staring at his own teeth marks before glancing at the child. A small smile perked as she poked his arm once more, this time giggling, "Tewoodee nooodaaall." The flavor sent his taste buds soaring, an absolute favorite of his, though he could very well deem it a liar. The rather fruity gum smelled like watermelon…but tasted like original bubble gum. It was a fantastic tease. Swallowing a mouthful of the delicious taste, the bluehead felt a sudden pang of guilt. How rude of him not to offer candy when the child had pointed it out. Surely, she would enjoy the flavor as much as he? And perhaps the gesture would finally be understood as an act of kindness and break the awkward tension between the two. She seemed to be in a giddy mood, which was rare, though he couldn't blame her past sullenness. Too many things had happened within the past month, and from her view, things couldn't have gotten much worse. Being propped from a box and immediately signing into a contract wasn't exactly the young man's idea of an ideal childhood. Not to mention the language barrier and lack of parents. His nose scrunched a bit. Is that what she saw them as? Parents?

He wasn't sure if he was ready for all that…he was barely allowed more than some fish as a child, and even those had to be flushed from time to time. He glanced at the child once again, cheeks scrunching in discomfort. He couldn't imagine stuffing the poor girl into a toilet. It would be wrong…and cause quite a bit of clogging. Murdoc would be cross…and Russel would strangle him. Then Murdoc would. By the time he woke from consciousness (if still alive), he was sure he'd feel awful guilty over the whole thing. Cute little tyke gone because of…well…negligence on his behalf. He could barely get _himself_ through a day (he had made it this far, but that was by a miracle of God and cigarettes); adding another wasn't the best idea. Feeling a slight thump against his thigh, the man blinked, tilting his head down. She had saddled up next to him with a playful grin, it slowly dying when she realized he wasn't smiling back. Merely an awkward tweak of the lips, obviously unsure how to handle the situation…like he had never dealt with a child before, or another living thing for that matter.

Rolling out a weary sigh, the little Asian focused on the strange designs sewn within the singer's pink pajama pants. The most she could identify was a heart in between the sets of words phrased all over like stamps, but she tried to recognize the lettering anyway. Even their characters were strange to her…all very small and blockish, very unlike her own quick detailed lines. Learning these things would prove to be a challenge, but she would overcome it…eventually.

"I love sleep."

The girl's shoulders lurched as her eyes darted upwards at the male hanging his head over hers, finding him lucky she hadn't raised her hard covered head instead. His nose would've been in for a rather nasty shock had she done so. "Nani?" she questioned, squinting when he reluctantly, though gently took her tiny hand in his, forcing her pointer to poke one of the many slogans along his thigh. He then pointed at himself, forming a hand heart with curved fingers while giving her a peek through it, and finally clapped his hands together, tucking them under his cheek and shutting his eyes for a moment, slowly lifting one open to see if she had understood. The girl giggled, tucking her own hands between her legs, swinging her Hello Kitty covered feet, the even pair of faces playing peek-a-boo with the two. "Watashi mo mata." she agreed, nodding her head as she repeated the young man's actions, pointing at herself as well. The singer perked a small smile, twirling the half slice of gum within his fingers. By a monkey's uncle…he had something in common with the little prodigy. Who would've known?

Or…at least…that's what he hoped she was saying. Never could be sure in situations like these. With a sniff, the pretty boy turned forward, hanging his elbows against his knees with a hunched back, shoving the last bit into his mouth. His fingers had begun to get rather sticky in his long wait, gluing together when gently rested on the other. Poking his tongue out, he licked the residue, savoring the flavor of such a gum once more. Tilting his view back at the child, he offered a small smirk, lolling out his tongue with the stretchy substance before it blew into a perfectly rounded balloon. The girl's eyes grew in keen interest and lust for such a treat, curiously edging on a finger in awe, but dared not touch it. Almost instantly it vanished before her eyes, destroyed all over the singer's lips and nose and with a quick lick, the talented young man had sucked it all back in, giving off a few chews before performing the action again, his audience quite enthralled.

Only once had the bluehead experienced such a devoted gaze before, and it had been a few years back when he was about seventeen or so. It had been springtime and a week after his father's local carnival opened up, already filled with the teens and children of Crawley itching to flee from the constraints of all day education. His father had helped set up the newest attraction, a stage for the few shows planned to entertain those digesting snacks or meals, waiting in lines, or some who simply didn't enjoy fast moving rides. The idea was to perform a few of the biggest pop songs around and then one or two for the elders who happened to walk by, therefore pleasing the majority of the audience. However, for that one particular day, the singer of the opening act of the afternoon set had called out due to a death in the family, leaving the time slots wonky for those waiting in the benches with a schedule of the planned performances.

His lips had barely touched the straw of his lemonade before it was yanked from his grip, elbow latched to his father's grasp as the details were scattered and muttered before he was thrust on stage, and all without definite reason. Stumbling across the wires of everything that was plugged in, young Stu froze as his mind finally comprehended that he was up on stage for everyone to see and, apparently, hear. Again he was jerked from his awkward position by the bassist (now that he thought about it, bassists seemed to be rough in general), the lad a good two inches shorter than the bluehead with an expression that instantly told him he wasn't too impressed. He shoved a crumpled paper into his chest, patience wearing thin as he shook his head, shifting the auburn locks from his blue eyes, "Tell me yeh know at least _one_ o' these songs." Shifting his gaze to the sheet, the young man ticked off a few in his head, then realized knowing all of the words would be quite a necessity, he cringed at the total he came up with. One.

Age of Aquarius.

Offering a weak smile, he nervously pointed it out, and the bassist shrugged for a lack of better words. "Better than none. Awright. Smiffy's gunna do a bit of cymbal an' then you come in on the eighth count…of the drum roll," he added, hoping to clear this poor lad's confusion or spooked mask (he couldn't tell), "…Off yeh go." He spun him back around and started him off with a push, throwing him back into the on looking crowd. He couldn't help that his entire body had gone into a paralyzed shock or the fact that his knees had somehow come loose and were rattling more than the sound checking cymbals. There had to be at least fifty to a hundred heads out there, not including the children scattered about, and they were all there to hear him, Stuart Pot, _sing_ of all things. The one thing he was much too shy to do outside his room, never mind in front of others. Soft russet eyes nervously peeking out between the blue tresses, they passed over the crowd once again, locking at a certain corner of the audience, mind jabbing at him that this was most certainly not a figment of his imagination. The knot that had been gathering in his throat shot down into the pit of his stomach, very nearly making him sick all over the place.

"_No! No! No! Why, dad? Why! Why me?_"

_She_ was here. Lavani Elwood. _The_ prize of the neighborhood (in his opinion, anyway). With her very lovely midnight hair curving along her pleasantly tanned skin, almond eyes peering up at him curiously with a soda perked between her lips, he was quite sure had he not already pissed himself, he was about to, and if not that, she was sticking around to hear a classmate sing…Stuart Pot…and possibly and most likely…make a complete and utter fool of himself. "_Oh God, I can barely swallow…_" His hand jerked out towards the microphone stand, accidentally forcing out the mic itself into a strange juggling act between his hands, smacking a few thuds into the speakers as they picked up the thumps. He pinned it against his belly, closing his eyes for a moment as he heard the band members groan behind him, struggling to get it back into the holder. "Just don't fuck up, mate." he heard the bassist mutter, biting his bottom lip. What he would give to be anywhere else at the moment. His face was burning and most of his muscles had given up on him; he forced himself to pull away from the thought of that beautiful girl eying him from the crowd, taking a deep breath as he glanced down towards the very front, specifically, a little girl about six or seven at the most. She was a sweet little thing, reddish brown locks tied up into two pigtails, very neatly matching her pretty spring dress. She was a bit small for her age, but outspoken, nonetheless, giving him a radiant grin with the top front missing from the picture, knowing very well he was looking directly at her. The boy nodded with a shy smile of his own, snapping back into reality when he realized the drum count had started and he hadn't been counting. "_Shit…awready ruined everythin' an' we barely started._" he mentally knocked, glancing back at the child. She sat there anxiously, anticipating his start with that big grin and eyes gazing up in awe…well…hell, it was all for fun, right? Clearing out his head, he ignored everything…the pissy bassist…his dad off to the side…the large crowd before him…his teenage crush…and simply thought of the child at his feet, so simple and yet pleased by what he was about to offer even before he had started.

He couldn't remember when he had started or actually finished the words, but what he could remember was the crowd cheering and clapping when he did decide to open his eyes, a bit surprised at the reaction and just enough to pull a smile on reflexively. He supposed it wasn't _so_ bad…and though he couldn't see Lavani as he let go of the mic stand, she had noticed him and that's what mattered, right? Some admirer…or jerk wad…had even decided to peg him with a plush prize while the crowd cheered and the band members bowed, making his way down the steps with the stuffed dog in hand, receiving a spiked ruffle from his father. A few of the children who knew the Pot son rushed at him, ushering a congratulations and admittance that his singing talent was something quite unknown to them. He greeted them quickly, realizing one of the quiet ones was the child he had glanced at during his performance. She seemed so much smaller up close, but her eyes remained large and almost golden in their amber glow, grin three times as ample. Her arms crossed behind her back as she suddenly broke the gaze, finding his filthy sneakers the most interesting things in the world, "You sing pretty." she said with a shy smile, peeking up once more when she finished her sentence. Grin pulling at his lips, he tilted his head, eying the plush in his hands before offering his admirer a token of his appreciation, "Thanks." Never before had he seen such a deep shade of blush attack someone…and from the tips of her ears all the way down to her shoulders, too.

The Asian's eyes held the same admiring luster, glowing as each enormous bubble expanded to its fullest potential, then exploded or imploded depending on the singer's mood to either surprise her or keep her captivated under his spell. He chuckled at her parting lips, inability to break away from his little performance. Her brows suddenly furrowed, staring down at her slippers with quick peeks at his reaction, a slow brow rising with the tinniest of smirks between the blows. Her hands rubbed together, slowly resting on her lap, poking at the oversized shirt she was sporting to sleep with. Her fingers crawled up towards her helmet, popping it off and placing it next to her as her own person armrest, midnight locks slightly matted from its mold all day. With a mumble she finger combed through, sticking it up in odd ends, but pleased with the freedom. Her vision was quickly cut as four elongated fingers brushed through from the back of her neck up, twisting and turning as if trying to unscrew her head from her neck, leaving her head to bounce when finally released. Rubbing her eyes, she gazed up at the singer, his simple giggle giving him away instantly.

His neck sunk in, simply chewing away at his treat, the bubbles paused at the moment as he tilted left and pretended to whistle, the gum wrestling his tongue for space. A gentle squeal escaped the child and startled him, thinking he had somehow hurt her with his playful act, but soon realized this was some form of battle cry when she thrust herself into his side, successfully toppling him over in desperate efforts to do onto him and he did her. Twisting on his belly, the bluehead laughed, doing his best to crawl away from the situation; however, Noodle was not so understanding, trying her hardest to pin him down with her less than seventy pounds, short arms stretching far to simply touch a lock of the rare azure hair. "No! No! _Don't!_" the young man giggled, able to reach a pillow as his own arms stretched out, giving her the gentlest of whacks in efforts to win the war, but the child ignored them, mocking the act with high pitched squeals and unwavering little fingers digging into his skin to find his weak spots.

The young man's long legs swam around in the air, thrusting himself around with the child as a professional jockey, managing to hang on to his collar and even dodging the crudely thrown cushion as the singer began to lose his composure, wondering how in the world she had located his most ticklish sides. He doubted even his auntie who had made it her life's purpose to find all ticklish areas on her nieces and nephews knew that this was his ultimate weakness. The man tried to curl in on himself, tears threatening to crawl down his cheeks as he did his best impression to bite his bottom lip, catching his breath as the child carefully reached up and over, fingertips very nearly grazing the ends of his neck strands…until she was easily popped off, the singer snapping up to rest on his knees, glancing over his shoulder with a sly grin.

Lifting a warning finger, the child giggled, covering her face as the man's elongated digits crept nearer and nearer with each passing second, very nearly about to strike back–

"'the 'ell you think yo' doin' to my guitarist, Pot?"

Wrists snapping back at the sound, 2D dodged his head into his neck, curving down into the seat as the possibility to become smaller than the girl next to him became more realistic, somehow morphing into a bony mass with spiky hair. Gently sitting up, the Asian looked over the backrest, spotting the bassist swirling a can of beer between his fingers, or at least, what was left of it. It seemed he had been on his way to gather up a refill when he walked in on the accidental fun. And all happening without his approval. That child was _his_ business plan. _His_ doing and _his_ undoing. She wasn't going to blow her nose without his knowing.

His arms were crossed, nothing too unusual about that, but the pulled brow and lack of emotion had the singer stuttering quite a bit, unsure of the man's true mood, "W-Well we w-wos jus-…I-I mean, I…-_Noodle_ an' I…uhm…w-wit the gum…bubbles…" he trailed off, earning silence from the bassist as the brow lowered and evened with its partner. No amount of deciphering could solve the mysterious code the Gorillaz singer had just spun, and Murdoc never was one for impossible puzzles.

"Leave the kid be, faceache…I need 'er rested up and ready to work in the morn, an' wot are you doin'? Workin' 'er up now?" he muttered, rubbing as his nose as the child poked the bluehead in the arm, receiving an alienated glance from the man. His brows curved down softly, tucking his hands between his legs, deciding to relax his muscles a bit and stretched out, but only slightly. His head hung at an angle, watching her as if she was a piece of art on display, and she merely glimpsed down at her shirt, assuming there was a stain or something for him to look so wearily at her. "Oy, Muds?" he murmured, peering over his shoulder at the man, receiving a yawn in return.

"Mm?"

"You…you ever think someone might come lookin' for 'er? I mean…she _is_ a kid an' all. They might…yeh know…want 'er back." he shrugged, eying the bassist for any negative reaction that might result in a painful outcome for him. The man seemed to be in a relaxed mental state of mind, shrugging the question off as if asked a preferred color for wall paints. The answer to said question had never really occurred to him, not that he had made it a priority to, but he highly doubted anyone mailed away in a FedEx crate of all things was truly being searched for. Even the blankest of minds could understand that. Though, to him, 2D _was_ the blankest slate of mind the world could find, and so to please his thirst and hurry on out, the bassist glanced within his can, squinting an eye momentarily before finishing it off, "When you 'ear of a missing Japanese kid, four foot one, black hair, musically inclined, and most likely shipped off in a wooden crate to specifically one Kong Studios on the news, you let me know, an' then I'll think of an answer for yeh." Turning on his thick heel, the greasy Brit disappeared into the kitchen, not bothering to turn on the light.

A flash blipped on as the rough suction of the fridge door popped through the air, pulling a smile on the child as she poked the singer's cheek, finding his reaction to swat her hand away with winced cheeks and furrowed brows amusing. 2D tilted his head at Murdoc's muffled grunt, slightly echoing in the expansive room, "Technically, she doesn't even exist…not in the great United Kingdom, anyway." The thin yellow light suddenly vanished with a thick shadow emerging from the dark room, new canister in hand. Curling a finger under the tab, he popped the hole in, wetting his lips before continuing, "Never deal wit trouble unless shit hits the fan, Pot. Yeh'll do well to take that page an' shove it right. Now stop worryin' yo' pretty little head about useless nonsense and tuck that kid in, seein' as you two've gotten awful cozy as of late. I'm sho' the kid appreciates 'avin' a big sister around the 'ouse."

The singer's grouchy pout hit the child first before moping over towards the man of Stoke. Nodding at the girl as she waved happily at him, most likely her efforts in a good night offering, Murdoc began his way down the hall, taking another sip as he eventually blended into the darkness, "Dress code says a lot about a man, faceache. You an' them rosy nancy pansy trousers…not gunna have teh start _watchin'_ myself around yeh, am I?" his voice trailed with a heinous tone bound to have a malicious smirk underlying it. Cheeks flushed in utter embarrassment, the bluehead cracked his stiffened jaw, nose scrunched as his brows furrowed even deeper, quite sure if the lower and upper halves of his face strained any more, it would ultimately cave in on itself. "'ere's nothin' wrong wit my jammies! An' its _light red_, Murdoc! _Light red_!" he called out with a whine, shoving his body back into the couch with arms crossed. Must he poke fun at everything he did? It was hardly fair. And in front of the new child, too.

Well…

He glanced at her curious leer, quite befuddled over the events that had just gone down, and even more so at his current posture, although she was slowly figuring things out as her eyes rose from him to the hallway their leader had just exited. Her finger rose to her bottom lip, tapping it as it thinned out in thought, blinking in discovery, "Mu-do…Mur-doo…"

"Murdoc." the singer spat blandly, digging his heels in the carpet before him.

She nodded gently, then tilted her head, eyes demanding an explanation. Releasing a pent sigh, he uncrossed his right arm, jerking a thumb at himself, then plucking his pants, shoving his arm under his pit again. Giving a pout of her own, she assumed the oldest had commented something rather negative about the pajama pants the bluehead seemed to be fond of, following the pose of the interesting keyboardist. Sneaking a peek at him, she quickly snuggled herself into the cushions, making sure to look irritated at best, winning the singer's curious attention. Offering him an endearing smile, she pressed her finger against his thigh, more specifically, at one of the clumps of lettering, "Muuurdoc….Murdoc-san….waaannt."

2D snorted at the comment, appreciating the fact that this child was on his side of the game. "'at's right…'e's just jealous." he mumbled with a small smile, resting his chin against his chest, "Real comfortable…say wot's true…'e just wishes 'e 'ad a pair like these…or a pair at all." he ended offly, wondering if the bassist actually owned a decent pair of sleeping sweats. Having no idea what the man was saying didn't keep the girl from giggling anyway, stretching out in a slight yawn. It indeed _was_ past her bedtime, but it seemed Russel hadn't come to fetch her, and Murdoc was expecting the singer to play 'daddy' for the night. He doubted the bassist would ever get a turn, between his lack of concern for anyone but himself, and the drummer's powerful sense of humanitarianism. The bluehead watched her rub her eye before staring at her fist, pulling her knees up into the oversized shirt. Anyone who had a heart understood that no child should ever undergo such a cruel and ridiculous situation such as living in a truly haunted house with hell's demons running around every corner, but everyone else who had a bit of common sense would bypass that thought as long as the child was free from Murdoc's short fused wrath. In the end, all would win, the bleeding hearts, the logics, Murdoc with a nice cup of tea, and a kid ready to face the world (because really, after facing hell itself, there would be nothing they couldn't handle).

"Twodeesan."

The young man blinked himself out of his thoughts for a moment, allowing semi attention to fall on her. She was rotating her fingers, pointing at her lips. Arching a slow brow, the bluehead's cheeks tinted slightly, a gangly hand curving over his neck. She couldn't possibly be asking for a goodnight's _kiss_, could she? He barely knew the little tyke, with her hyperactive ways and karate prone style…he wasn't quite sure what to think of it…or her, for that matter. There was just something off about children in the whole for the poor singer, they were so small and fragile, and souls made of near glass, easy to shatter at the simplest of realities. This spitfire seemed to be made of rubber, however, oblivious to meaning and comprehension, with the ability to live her life the way innocence intended. And yet, she still needed a guide…a simple role model in order to steer her energized self into an organized young citizen. Wincing slightly, he tackled the thought. Would this step lead her into a routine…something common and simple to easily comfort her into a dream zone?

He soon felt a pinch on his arm, realizing it only when he discovered that his right hand was rubbing the spot, shaking his head as he woke into reality. Her head was tilted to the side, brows furrowed with both confusion and annoyance etched within, demanding his full and complete attention. She puckered her lips once more, blowing empty air then popping them out, awaiting the correct reaction towards her efforts of communication. Slapping the side of his head (and earning a spooked stare), the singer chuckled at his misunderstanding. She merely wanted his bubble show…or perhaps a piece, the more he pondered it. Curving his tongue behind his molar where the sweet taffy-like treat was hiding, the zombie lover munched it a few times, relaxing himself within the nook of the couch. He gently rested his neck along the curve of the backrest, closing his damaged sockets for just a moment, tenderly digging into his left pocket for the packet of treasures he so proudly carried on his person. Slowly lifting his lids to a mere lethargic gaze, the young man lifted the package to his chest, fumbling lightly with the covering until he managed to slide another slender stick out from all the rest, the chosen one balanced delicately between his fingers while he tucked the casing away, and the younger child curious all the while.

His eyes lingered on the object for a moment, realizing what he was about to do, and finding that he was okay with it, strange as it seemed. He quickly took her hand, brushing open her fingers before placing the piece of tongue gold on her palm, curving them back in as if it were something truly marvelous, extraordinary, and even forbidden. Her widened eyes grew even larger when she pulled the candy close, able to smell the delicious aroma the singer knew she understood as well as he, able to appreciate it in the same way. Her tiny fingers unwrapped the pink jewel, twisting and turning it this way and that, making absolutely sure she had seen it from each and every angle possible before shoving it to taste bud heaven. The two of them sat in verbal silence, backs pressed as their fingers curved over their bellies, eyes closed and legs stretched, both sharing a mental peace as well as flavor. It was glorious and wondrous, and as time passed on, they each realized it was all because of the other. 2D smiled lightly when he finally decided to open his eyes, peering over at the child as she did the same. He often refused to allow anyone access or knowledge of his special gum, and the thought of sharing was far from optional, and yet, here he had done the unthinkable with a child truly foreign to him who could barely cough out his name.

Another bubble expanded out, snapping in the air as soon as he pulled it back in. The girl simply chewed, though her eyes held a bit of envy as she did so. Nodding his chin at her, he tried again, but her enthusiasm appeared to have died out as soon as she had obtained her own piece. Frowning a bit, the bluehead debated with himself, wondering if he had been solely duped into her plan for a single piece of satisfaction. If so, she had played her cards well. But looking at the girl, he couldn't help but feel that wasn't it. Not only had the sparkle died from her eyes, but also the determination that always lingered about her, even when she was stable. Pointing at himself with a hum, 2D blew a small one, its hard pop echoing for a short moment within the nearby halls, but the small karate junior shook her head, pointing at herself in return. Oh, well of course that was it. She didn't know how.

Offering her a generous pout of understanding, the singer sighed a sympathetic "N'aww" while crossing his left arm and tapping his cheek with his right hand, tucking his chin into his palm. He could still remember the lunch hour his mother had taught him to blow bubbles, so ridiculously proud of himself that he had truly ran out of the nurses' nook to show anyone who was willing to pay the boy any mind, even the semi tolerant patients in their private rooms. And he had only been a mere six years old. Noodle was perfectly capable of learning such a technique, especially for one who instantly fell into the knack of things. A small smile curved along his cheeks. Why, he could teach her himself and maybe understand her a bit more…quality time always brought people closer together, didn't it? And, although it wasn't exactly a life skill, it did kill boredom from time to time, and every human did need a bit of relaxation during their day, especially with scheduled days such as theirs. Arching his neck out, 2D took in a deep breath, turning towards the child seemingly frustrated with her dilemma, poking her nose to get her attention. As expected, her eyes lingered upwards until they met his warm, yet awkward smile, the thought finally hitting him. How was he going to get her to understand?

Stretching out his tongue with the gum in sight, the Gorillaz singer pointed at it, then pulled it back in, pausing for her response. Pinching her chewed glob between her fingers, she held it up before her, smiling a bit before muttering, "Metamon." The young man's eyes widened as he finally understood her comparison between the gum and Pokémon, releasing an unexpected chuckle and stealing her interest back. "Awright, love…yeh just…" he tried, pointing at the actions his mouth was performing, almost in picture perfect slow motion for any mental notes she required. He even paused as he positioned his tongue between the stretched piece of gummy, poking the firm layer for a bit of leeway before emptying his cheeks into the candy, gaining its form. Noodle watched as he did this a couple of times, noticed that he wasn't blowing bubbles from the front of his mouth, but the side, finally figuring out his trick. It seemed he would start it sideways then push the growing bubble out front before it expanded too much. It was all very clever…at least, to her it was. But he seemed to be expecting something from her, as he suddenly stopped his little performance to merely ogle at her.

_Surely_ he wasn't anticipating for her to do as he was? That was just…_magic_. She had no access to any of the sort. But on he gazed in pure silence, the moment becoming tight and awkward. Glancing around, she gave off a few chews, and the life in him seemed to slowly be pulsing out with every beat of his heart, nodding his chin up with the rest of his shoulders until she was sure anymore and he would take off with a pair of wings. His mouth opened a bit to show the wall of gum between his teeth once more, and she did her best to follow in his footsteps, poking her tongue gently against it. They stayed like that for a moment before the singer squished it between his munch, "Go on…gently wit th-you got it…not too 'ard…and…blow."

The orb came out small and slightly flat compared to the young man's skilled spheres, but her spirit soared higher than a million bubbles could have ever supported, simply elated that she had done it herself, obtained the unobtainable, and achieved the highest goal…all because of him. With a squeal, she tackled the blueheaded man, prattling off in her own language with a bunch of "noodles" in between, unintentionally squeezing the Brit's ribcage into dust. Prying the excited child off proved to be difficult, coughing and whimpering before she finally understood she was hurting him, releasing the tallest at once with a hidden smile. Again she tried, and again it was small, but she was proud nonetheless. He had seen it, she could tell, by the painful beam he gave her, the young man shared in her ecstasy over the moment they had between them. The situation belonged to them, and to them it would remain forever. With a medium sized pop, her eyes thanked him gleefully, quite obsessed to become the best at her newest talent.

Rubbing his sides, 2D heaved, a gentle aura of relaxation rested along his features. He had made a child smile that night…that would fulfill his good deed of the day, he was sure of it. Look at her…kid could barely hold herself back from snapping him in two from pure excitement. The young man yawned gently, stretching this way and that to pull the kinks from his spine as the child continued on, only giggling after each pop. Savoring his last few chews, the singer had decided it was time to toss out the treat, a trade for toothpaste when he found some. He hadn't noticed that the girl's bubbles were expanding ever so largely, out doing herself from the previous try with her newfound determination sparkling within her eyes. It was only when he finally decided to glance at her mid lift that it was too late. She had blown far too hard, and indeed received the perfect bubble…nearly the size of her head. Unsure how to handle the situation, the singer grabbed at his locks, gripping his bottom lip with his gap, "Noodle! No!"

**POP!**

His eyes slowly opened, hands gently falling to his lap at a loss for words. The child's face had developed a new skin tone with the gum now splattered all over it, but that wasn't what kept the poor boy from uttering an intelligible syllable, all forms of vocabulary crumpled into a ball and thrown into the very pit of his stomach never to be retrieved again. No. It was the gooey, thready candy tangled in the girl's hair. Her small palm smacked at her forehead, pulling the layer off while she tried to open her eyes and retain vision, however the twenty three year old's expression did nothing for her nerves as her fingers walked up further, discovering her little act had cost her more than just her boredom. "Oh shit! Oh shit!" the singer mumbled, leaping to his feet to immediately pace the floor. It was all his fault. He hadn't meant any harm by sharing a piece of gum and sharing the technique of bubble blowing. He was just being friendly. Rubbing a hand down his face, he reached down and snagged her arm, dragging her behind him as she tried to keep up with his lengthy jagged steps, "No worries, love. We'll just try an' wash it out. Then off teh bed, awright?"

For a moment he paused, and Noodle was thankful for this, but it hadn't been on her behalf. He could've sworn the drummer's hefty footsteps were advancing ever so slowly. He ducked a sharp left into the bathroom, whipping the girl in behind him before resting his back against the door, taking deep breaths as she gained hers. He leapt at the sinks, turning one on before scouting around for some shampoo, disappearing behind the stalls for a moment. The Asian guitarist casually walked over towards the sinks, climbing onto the counter in order to see her reflection in a mirror that wasn't sprayed over in graffiti. A bit of pink mixed in with black in the front, nothing too bad. The poor singer was overreacting. Sitting on her knees, she softly smiled, picking at the gum strands as best she could. Some seemed to be embedded within her locks. Although this was a rather unfortunate event, she couldn't have been happier. The young man had taught her something new, and willingly, too. She needn't hound him for attention that time. He had done it on his own free will, and it felt nice. Almost like she belonged.

The warm feeling residing in the young girl's chest suddenly went out when she found herself semi drowning face first in the sink. Just what exactly did 2D think he was doing? Flailing her arms, the girl snapped her neck up, gasping for air from the cold water backed up in the basin, coughing as the bluehead placed a towel around her shoulders, lathering up a good handful into her scalp. Arching a confused brow, Noodle only wished she could have asked him what he was doing, digging his nails into her roots while muttering to himself. Never before had she washed her hair apart from a shower…was this normal? Sure she had bits of gum stuck, but that was nothing a little patience couldn't remove. Was it so necessary to scrub her head so hard, wobbling it around like a bobble head before she had gotten most of it out? But she knew he wouldn't understand her…just as she didn't understand him. The barrier was far too thick.

"Awright, rinse!"

Again she was dunked, and this time rougher than the first. He seemed to be working off his nerves, something he didn't handle too well, and managed to knock the poor girl's head against the sink's nozzle as he pulled her up, twisting the towel around her head and held the mass against his chest, leaving her to deal with her new headache with minimal oxygen to the brain. He squeezed tight for a moment before shaking it harshly all around her head, hoping little girls' hair air dried quick enough to not be noticed by prowling guardians. "An' we're good," he sighed happily, giving her covered head a quick pat, slightly cringing when she lifted the bit off her face to glare up at him. An awkward smile was the best he could do, guiltily shrugging when she crossed her arms, snorting at his efforts. With an exhausted sigh, the mail in tugged off the towel, heart pounding a little faster when she saw the man's lips part in a horrific panic. "Oh, _no_, _Noodle_!" His hands shook as he capped his mouth, unsure of what to do. He had thought it would wash out easily. That made sense, didn't it? When hair got dirty, it took some head soap to rinse it out. Why hadn't it worked for gum? Why was it twisted even deeper now?

Cheeks flushing in frustration, 2Dents crossed an arm under his pit, the other combing within the depths of his own hair over and over again. There was no way he could hide this now. Murdoc was going to ring his neck. Then Russel was going to flatten it. Or vice versa. There was possibility for a tag team on this one. "Shit…I should've never given you that gum! L-Look at this mess." he whimpered, eying her as she climbed up to the mirror once more, her thin lips digressing into a distressing pout. Lightly furrowing her brows, her tiny fingers began picking through her hair once more. In his good hearted efforts to help (or in a chance to save his own neck), the young man had done nothing more but made it worse, spreading the thin mold across the sides of her head. A bucket of ice would cure the problem, how she knew, she couldn't fathom, but it seemed chilling the soft candy would make it easier to chip out (an unpleasant experience nonetheless).

"Maybe we can just…cut out a few strands…never know the difference…"

She watched his lanky figure disappear behind the stalls once more, rolling her eyes before parting a split end covered in pink. He was rambling again. If only he would help her pull these globs out, then perhaps they'd make some progress. Pausing for a moment, the child stared at her reflection, cheeks flushed, hair sopping, and strands of pink decorating her noggin. She doubted bed was going to be an option any time soon. "Noodle?" Her eyes shifted right, staring at the pitiful klutz in all his glory…and a pair of scissors. Swiveling around, she pressed her back against the wall, head tilting at the weapon in question. Glancing down at it, the singer snipped at air, gazing back up with a face written of shame and remorse for what he was about to do. His hand reached out, fingers curling into a cage over hers, helping her down from the countertop. The child's eyes locked on the tool swinging loosely from the singer's grip, face slightly blank while he led her to a stall, closed the lid on the toilet, and simply sat to get a better height comparison. "Nani…? Naze desu ka?" the child asked wearily as the young man felt through her hair, fingers quivering at the bare touch. It was no use. He couldn't understand. He wouldn't understand. It had all gone too far. He mumbled to himself as the first snips were gentle and slightly unnoticeable, doing his best to merely get the large pieces out of the way. As long as it wasn't noticed, he would be safe, and all would be well, but as his handiwork continued, he seemed to acknowledge that the tiny bits became uneven strands that became awkward patches along the sides of her head. If she combed it forward, she would be fine. He could fix this. Maybe, hair clips? No…not enough now! What was he _doing_? Was all the gum out? No, wait, everything was all uneven!

The metal knives dropped to the tiled floor with a clatter, the hands once holding them capping the pill addict's face in utter horror. What had he _done_?

His shoulders trembled before sagging into the rest of his body, curling up much tighter than he had on the couch earlier, and from between his fingers the little girl could hear tiny whining, like that of a frightened puppy longing to be loved. "W-Wot 'ave I d-done to yeh, Noodle. Wot 'ave I _done_? I-I ruined yeh…j-just-j-just look!" he heaved, refusing to remove his hands from his face, the only visible piece, his roughly damaged mouth…and with every word his jaw trembled. The young man leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs as he coughed out, pulling in a watery sniff with the continual shake of his head. Ruined. It seemed everything he touched blew to pieces before his very eyes. Why couldn't he have broken something…burnt the dinner…accidentally let a zombie in? But to nearly scalp her…

She was gone from the stall by the time he glanced up, and it wasn't much he could hold her against. What a horrid man he was. Is that what he did with small children? Carved them up like beastly brothers with Barbie dolls? His knees shook more than the rest of his body, keeping him from falling into cardiac arrest. The others would kill him. There was no doubt about that now: his reward for making an attempted peace with the strange and darling female of the household had backfired.

"W-Wot's wrong w-wit me? I w-wos only tryin' to get-t it out…I w-wos only t-tryin' to be a g-good person…I didn't _mean_ to cut that f-far! Didn't mean to ruin yo' l-lovely little looks…, "he gasped, unable to hold himself together, "I've destroyed yo' image! A-And _no_ one'll understand! _No_ one ever understands! Russel'll _smash_ me an' Murdoc'll bury me _alive_! Can't sell like this! C-Can't perform-they'll think the worse of us…o-of me! An' then-an' then another guitarist! An' it's all b-because of me! _That's why Paula left!_" the singer screeched as he slammed his head into the stall wall, pouring out every ounce of his soul into his wrists, pulling at his hair with the salty tipped fingers. It was all too soon. Everything had happened so suddenly…when had there been time to recover? It all kept piling…piling until he knew not what to do with himself…and no one had bothered to notice. The young man's boney shoulders shuttered as he coughed his throat raw, barely bothering to sniff back anything anymore. He had been filled with so much confusion and pain…the fear to ever grow attached to something…or someone…again…had simply outlasted its stay in his tortured mind. It needed a fresh recycle, but not until he was willing to clear out the trash boggling him…and to that, he held onto dear life.

It was by the third hiccupping gasp that he realized his face was being patted with a ball of soft tissue paper, sinking into each socket before stroking down his cheeks, then dabbing at his nose. His eyes wearily opened to the girl's tender features, brows rested slightly above her eyes, not pity nor anger…but comfort. She held nothing against him for the deeds he had done, never was there an inkling of darkness within his heart, and that's what truly mattered. Unfortunate occurrences happened all the time; she would never hold him responsible for them. Running her tiny fingers down his tear stained cheek, she softly ran her emeralds from his lips to his eyes, and although she couldn't physically see them, she knew they were loaded with empty pain and untended wounds. All cry in the same language.

She took her time dabbing the ball along his skin, even pressing it to his nose to wipe the mess away without disgust, slowly sliding her arms around his neck and pressing her cheek along his shoulder to squeeze him in tight. Silence followed her actions, with her latched on and him just seated, staring out limply at the space between the stall door. When was the last time he had been hugged by someone who cared? How could this child possibly care about someone like him? She barely knew him, and what she did know, he couldn't be proud of. So, why? Why would she waste her time? To know that he had just ultimately destroyed her image…obliterated her feminine locks…corrupted the one who had barely been there a month…and yet still she favored him. Comforted him. Offered him _affection_. His back cracked when he leaned down further, robotic in his stiffness when he raised his arms to embrace the girl. It felt like eons since he had last performed that action. A bit of oil was in order, it seemed. He pressed her close, the tightness of his squeeze unimportant at the moment. He needed this.

He _needed_ this.

His chin rested along the undestroyed crop of hair, whispering an, "I'm sorry," between every hiccupped breath, closing his eyes as he shook his head from side to side, horrified of the current past, but a sharp pat on the back reminded him that all was not lost…and most certainly forgivable. The pat morphed into a soothing rub before the fingers stretched, prodding at the young man's favored spots. He jerked upwards slightly, quite unexpecting of the girl's sudden actions and motives behind them. "W-Wot…?" he snuffled while wiping his nose along his arm, clearing his throat for a moment as he caught the guitarist's miniature grin. He supposed the cheek pat as well was a gentle gesture of peace between comrades, because that's what they were…had he known this previously or not. His eyes ran along the sides of her scalp, uneven fuzz hanging in random sections while longer pieces clung to her neck, drying up slowly in odd angles around her ears. His tongue ran along his mouth, realizing the gum was gone. Had he accidentally swallowed it in all the excitement? Sighing, he sniffed harshly, rubbing the back of his hand across his left cheek, "Ughh…wot are-"

He froze midsentence, absolutely sure his bowels were about to release without any say on his behalf as voices in the hall grew nearer and nearer with each accompanying step. His eyes locked with the child's, both understanding that the truth would possibly result in one death, and again, both understood who just might suffer it. Her tiny foot scraped the fallen tool towards her, scooping it up and backing out of the stall before he could utter a sound, spreading the pile of snipped hair everywhere along the floor up to the sink, any desire to make any sound torn from him when the bathroom door opened, revealing the drummer with their bassist close behind, "-should've been in her…" Voice dying out in his throat, Russel Hobbs hung loosely in his spot, roughly shoved by a none too patient Murdoc, eyes popping at the sight before them. Although between the both of them, Murdoc still had enough sense in him to speak his mind, albeit awkwardly over angrily enough, "Noodle…wot the fuck are yeh _doin'_?"

The child in question was sitting daintily on the floor, rubbing over her nose as she gently snipped a wet curl, tossing it to the floor carelessly with a timid smile. She looked over her shoulder at the two, offering a cheerful wave, setting the scissors on the floor with a click, "Noodle!" Running his massive hand over his head, the drummer sighed heavily, eyes holding a tender sympathy for the poor girl seemingly unaware of her damage, "Baby girl…" She stood up to dust herself off, ignoring Murdoc seething in the corner, peering up as the singer meekly peeked out from the stall. His face read confusion over why she would take the downfall…why risk the wrath of their elders…and why continue the damage before standing up.

"_Dullard!_"

2D nearly jumped out of his skin (or vomited, whichever decided to happen first), hugging himself goodbye as the bassist stomped towards him, shoving a finger into his chest, "Didn't I tell yeh to put that kid to bed? Look wot she did! This is _yo'_ fault, yeh tart." he growled, giving him a shove for good measure before crossing his arms to glare at the little girl. She was spinning in circles, whipping what was left of her hair around to coax out the droplets falling on her shoulders. Rubbing the bridge of his nose jadedly, Russel nodded his head side to side while muttering a few things to himself, thumping over to the child to help her remove the clipped hair from her shirt and arms. She must have thought it was a game, like at a salon or something along the sorts, and wished to try it out on herself…with quite the disastrous result, but it couldn't be helped.

Crowding his brow, the bassist glanced up curiously at 2D who owned the strangest expression of shock a man could wear, but that didn't bypass the thoughts bubbling up inside him. The child's hair was wet and snipped to the point of bald spotting…the dullard couldn't have possibly walked past her without finding her actions a little strange for the norm…and wouldn't he have heard the water running and scissors snipping if he had been in the stall? One could only drown out sound by urinating for so long…

"Where were you when this 'appened?" he asked dangerously low, perking up his chin at the bluehead who sucked in wind so quickly he dove into a coughing fit, catching Russel's attention for the first time. The child's eyes twitched up from the drummer to the singer, realizing the bassist's intrigued glare was most likely going to bring problems for them both in the very near future. "Twodeesan!" she squealed, jumping from the large man's grip into the thin one's legs. Her arms wrapped around them, pegging her half shaven head into his abdomen, peering up as soon as she was sure Russel had been stunned into silence, "Noodle-oo kami wo katto! See! See! Cu-ut! Noodle cu-ut!" she rambled giddily, grin large as she bounced, but her eyes alerted him of her false purity, and it didn't require a decoder to figure out her hidden warning. Lifting a shaky hand, the singer ran it gently against the half air dried hair, brows furrowing in pained confusion, "Oy little tyke…wot's all this now? Yeh've…gone an'…ugh…" he muttered, lifting the same hand to run his palm into an eye socket, pressing his fingers into his temple.

Dusting his hands off, Russel shook his head, "Yeah…looks like she got a little 'creative'. Nothin' we can do about it now…" his white orbs fell on the bluehead, "Migraines actin' up again?"

Taking his chance, the second youngest tilted his head a bit, dropping his arm down, "Like 'ell's demons pokin' in me brains. Popped a pill or two…I fink I took a nap in the toilets…don't remember 'ow I got 'ere, really…Wot time is it?" he quietly mumbled, adding a gentle yawn towards the end, earning an unimpressed eye roll and tighter arm cross from Murdoc, as if to say 'of course that's what happened, the moron.' Though he wasn't proud of it, the singer was quite aware that he could make 'stupid' look 'good' and while he wasn't the _best_ card player in the world, he definitely knew how to deal them when necessary, and for both his sake and the child's, he was thankful for it. She had yet to let him go, almost intending to protect him should either of the eldest men come forward and sniff out their falsity, and it touched the young man greatly that this little girl would put herself before him after all the mess he had put her though. "Wull…least she 'as that helmet o' hers. Y'know, caps it all an' wotnot. It's not like she doesn't wear it all the time, anyways." he shrugged with a hopeful tone to his voice, almost on the borderline of guilt, making it quite easy for Murdoc to jump back on his trail of breadcrumbs again as the bassist's brow lifted suspiciously, but he remained silent.

"I suppose yo' right, D. Not like much we can do it either way. It'll grow back. But baby girl, no more playin' with scissors, you got me?" the large drummer coaxed, grabbing a hand towel to finish up the job. The child merely giggled at his attempt, but drew a frown when he grabbed her hand, "C'mon, bed time."

"Mmmm!" she grumbled, tugging back, and the three men watched her with interest and surprise, for never before had she ever refused the largest band member. He treated her kindly as if an overprotective brother or father even, but never once had she frowned or disowned his heart warming gesture for her own well being. "No!" she huffed, finally popping her tiny hand from his enormous grip, falling back into Murdoc's side before she could gather her balance. Shaking her head, the guitarist hopped next to the tallest one, sliding her hand into his rather gangly fist. She calmly pointed up at him with a small smile, pulling him in rough jolts to follow her most likely to her room to tuck her in as originally planned. "Twodeesan!" she whined, her voice urging him to hurry up, but Russel chuckled, crossing his arms in amusement. "Well, excuse _me_. Since when did you two start getting' so close?"

Peering down at the child who had paused her actions to glance over at the drummer, 2D gave a meek shrug, rubbing his fingers along the side of his neck. It was a fantastic question really, and if he wished to keep his face in its current condition, he was quite sure revealing that tonight had been quite a bonding experience for the two of them wouldn't leave his nose where it was intended to be. Walking past the two, Russel gave him an approving nod (almost an 'about time' type with a small smile), patting the child on her head before bidding her a goodnight and disappearing entirely without another word. With just the three of them, the tension in the air got a bit thick, nearly choking the singer as their leader marched up to him, finger practically thrust into and up his nose, "Somethin' ain't right 'ere…I'm warnin' yeh, I'm onto yeh, fuckface…Ain't in the mood to figure it out now, but I will, an' when I do, you'll be in for it, big time." He glared down at Noodle. "An' if you don't put 'er in bed in fifteen minutes, I'll put you in the ground."

The door slammed before the singer could even swallow his first knot, but a simple tug reminded him that not only was he not alone, he also had someone who had his back. Who supported him. Who cared. Blinking as he gently glanced down, the back of his hand curved alongside her smiling cheek, releasing a satisfied sigh. "Went better than I thought…" he whispered, peering up at the door before his eyes fell back on her, "…An'…I suppose I could get used to 'avin' yeh around…" The child's smile grew, though he couldn't be absolutely sure she understood him. Curling his fingers around hers, the bluehead pressed open the door, holding it open for the child before disappearing down the hall. He hadn't expected a friendship to bloom from this…he anticipated pain…disappointment…fear…but not a little package of sunshine, natural and non prescribed. He offered her an affectionate smile when she looked up at him, warm and cozy in her bed, head half shaven and pitifully so. His long fingers combed through the torn mess, appreciating his handiwork for all other reasons than the mistake it rightfully was. They ran into another, smaller pair of digits, wiggling under his as she giggled, making herself comfortable before he hooked the sheets gently over her shoulder. "Night, little darlin'." he whispered, tilting his head as the lights shut off under his finger, silent. He couldn't help but feel slightly guilty over the whole ordeal…but then again, what he had won had been something much greater than anything he had expected to get out of this night. The strange and odd child had been tucked away and was tenderly nestled atop the softest layers of his heart, gently digging deeper as he knew time would pass. Perhaps this is what she wanted…not toys or knickknacks or anything of that sort. Perhaps just simply for him to embellish this feeling…this curious joy…He glanced down for a moment and smiled, giving her resting body one last glance before shutting the door.

* * *

**Author's Note**:_ This was the second story I was supposed to update before I went on spring break, but apparently I'm a horrible promise keeper and had it on my laptop the whole time. However, I do have good news. I'm working on at least two more one shots that will end up along with these updated oneshot chapters, but I'm also working on a one shot Plastic Beach themed one, which I'm getting used to as I type it, considering all this is a new mold and all. And I'm still working on Memoirs, so no worries. Just juggling all these tidbits. And reading the Series of Unfortunate Events books. How did I bypass these growing up?_

_PS: I am not studying Japanese in any way shape or form, but if I have translated wrong, do let me know and I'll correct it. I didn't put up the English of what Noodle's saying because I feel in a way that's distracting from the purpose of her speaking her own language. The boys don't understand her, and I want to keep that experience for the reader, too. _


	6. Our Little Secret

Our Little Secret

The orange flier crumpled in her hand from excitement, bottom lip sucked behind her teeth as she tried to hold in an ecstatic squeal. But she had to remain calm. Already she had discussed this event with the most responsible member of the band, one who cared for her and protected her as a wild bear to its cub (with an appetite to match), but he had sternly set down the rules, and she had to abide by them if she wished to partake in anything. Taking a deep breath, the teen patted herself down, hoping to rid herself of the butterflies fluttering within her bloodstream and set her shoulders straight. Her slender legs carried her to the end of the hallway where the filthy doors ended, one wrenching open to a stairwell leading to the core of the old studio building.

It was down here that the bassist enjoyed hiding himself away, blasting their music among others in order to A: keep zombies who had eardrums a fair distance so he could shoot them and B: keep any unwanted visitors away from his home within a home of a Winnebago, otherwise known as his own band mates. It wasn't that he utterly disliked them all (or perhaps he did), but he was a man of privacy and solitude, a wish each of them granted unless it was positively necessary to pry the man from his narcissistic world. Dinner and the apocalypse were two approved such situations by the man himself. But it was not he that the young girl was searching for. She walked past the blasting caravan, bleeding out "Bark at the Moon" as the caravan rocked with each step the man within took, far too light for him to be up to any precarious activities as of yet. It was still early, and Murdoc Niccals wasn't one to disappoint a personal schedule. The carpark was vast and chilly, wind tunnels whipping through the broken holes and cracks in the cement walls that no one bothered to fix. It gave the place a bit of personality…as well as made it quite easy for the undead to creep in like undesirable rodents (which they often got as well). Her arms wrapped around her torso as her boots clicked against the pavement, pulling her army green hoodie tighter to her chest in hopes that doing so would keep the warm from seeping out. She didn't mind the autumn season…in fact, along with spring it was one of her favorite reasons to simply go out for a walk and enjoy the chilly breeze sweeping past her as if wanting to free her from every bond in the world.

She loved how the leaves changed color and fell, bristling around in miniature tornados, leaving the trees naked in the distance. She knew that the trees themselves were fine, and that in the spring they would once again grow a fresh afro of green tenders, once again completing a cycle nature had in mind. She loved the crunch of the dry leaves under her boots, the scents of all the interesting warm foods lined along the bakeries, the sounds of children laughing off in the distance. Her heart swelled at the thought of turning seventeen, another year nearly completed and accomplished with so much more to fulfill. Her ears welcomed the fuzzy earmuffs she had bought a few weeks ago, accompanying her daily walks as she played "O Green World" against the weather on her Ipod, finding the melody of the singer's voice extremely soothing, as well as appropriate. It worked fantastically with the season. She had to let him know someday.

Her hand grabbed the frozen knob of his spray painted door, turning and pressing her shoulder against it before tugging at the chain hanging overhead to help her see the outlay of the room. Before her feet were two sets of steps leading to another door, the one that truly belonged to the room of the singer. Pushing the first door shut behind her, the purple haired teen calmly counted every step she took, and wound up with thirty two steps when she hit the bottom, glancing back and up behind her when she was done. It seemed a bit colder down here, although there was no wind. However, she could feel the heat radiating from his main door, and for this, she twisted the knob without second thought of her actions.

Their eyes locked momentarily before the young man tried to form coherent words in his mouth, and it was then that the young woman realized she had done him a world of wrong for bursting into his room as she did without so much as a knock of recognition. Her hands tucked away behind her innocently as she tilted her head, eyes still covered by the curtain of hair she had, but through it she could see him clearly, flushing darker than she had ever seen on anyone. From the tip of his forehead to the curves of his ears, down to the very base of his neck into his "Nowhere Man" tee shirt, he was as blushed as could be. And curled up on his bed, he quickly coughed out what sounded like a pent gasp, dropping his copy of "The Good Omens" before grasping at his face, "N-Noodle! I-uhm…I c-can explain! I-I mean I….aw 'ell…"

Merely blinking as silence took over the atmosphere, she watched as the young fellow fingered the flat rims in his hands, refusing to lift his head more than he had dropped it. And in her heart she felt guilt over what she had done and what he had been trying so hard to hide. Heaving his chest ever so slightly, 2D lifted the offender up, balancing them neatly on his nose. They were thickly molded coke bottle glasses, rimmed into two orderly squares joined by the flat of a bridge. The glass itself was a tinted mint, allowing its owner to view most of his world in shades of green, but the young man didn't seem to take much pride in this. The paper in her hand crunched slightly in all the silence, and his head moved only a tiny bit, ducking even lower than before over his crossed legs, "P-Please don't tell anyone about this…" His hands rung the end of his shirt into a swirl of wrinkles, releasing it when it became too tight for him to bear. Suddenly aware that the door behind her was open, the teen pressed it shut, enjoying the warmth of the room, something she understood was a selfish act all things considering.

Slowly, she made her way to the bed, taking a seat at the edge with a timid smile, though he would not look at her. The flier cracked once more before he hummed nervously, daring a second of a peek up at her, something she was waiting for quite patiently. There was nothing to be ashamed about, she thought, chest clenching for the poor soul beside her nearly drowning in embarrassment. If anything, they complimented his features and looked rather handsome on him…or vice versa. She found herself smiling at the thought, finding it odd she could still manage those thoughts about any of her long time band mates. They were family in the end, really (no matter how much Murdoc liked to deny it), but they each were their own separate people, and that's what made them much closer than any blood family could be. Her free hand rested gently on his fist. He tried to bite his bottom lip, a task much harder for him with that gap of his, but it didn't seem to bother him anymore than the situation at hand, "I…I-I know I look like a dork wit 'ese fings…but…but I 'ave to wear 'em to read. After the accident…wull, I used to 'ave perfect vision before, yeh know? I could see as far as billboard signs an' as close as the nose on me face…but now wit me eyes all sensitive an' such, words look like a blur an' I can't focus. The d-doctor said I'll need 'em the rest o' me life. Can't use contacts. You know 'ow it goes." he shrugged with a heavy sigh, the blush dimming down, but only a smidge.

"I mean, I can see big fings, an' people, normal stuff. It's just when it comes down to the smaller bits, like words on a paper, or subtitles on a screen…credits…"

"Music notes?"

The young woman gazed at him sadly as he rubbed along base of his neck, wincing a bit, "I squint real 'ard. I know you lot must think I'm dull when I'm inspectin' the sheets the way I do, but I just can't see 'em as well as you can. Looks like an inky bloody mess. An' doin' that puts an awful strain on the eyes…leads teh migraines…an' then me nose feels funny the rest o' the day from scrunchin' it up some." The singer rubbed the mentioned body part, pushing up the bridge of the frames with another sigh, uncurling his hand within hers. His eyes rose, slightly jittered behind the wall of mint glass, "P-Please don't tell anyone. If word gets out, Murdoc might find that incentive teh mop the floor wit me even more so. I'd rather not 'ave a target on me face…or need to replace them every few days. I only use 'em to read in 'ere anyway." he smiled nervously, lifting the book to his lap. "I like to read on occasion."

Squeezing his hand gently, the violet haired teen poked her brain in thought. Perhaps she could make this work. Her award winning smile grew along her face, relieving the singer as she did so. Pulling her sleeves over her chilled hands, Noodle held up the flier, careful to keep calm under her excitement. "I will keep your secret under two conditions." she answered gently as he plucked the much loved paper from her grip to his reading view. "You must go with me to the Harvest Festival." the girl listed, watching his reaction as he skimmed the announcement, peering up at her awaiting excitement.

"Russel said I cannot go if I do not have someone to accompany me. It is out in the countryside, and I believe it will be beneficial if you attend."

The young man smiled teasingly, humoring the younger guitarist, "Awright? 'ow so?"

The grin on her face grew even more, if possible, "Well, first off there will be fresh air to clean out those smoke filled lungs of yours. Secondly, there is a lovely little town in the area with gift shops and kiosks serving all types of yummy food, and the specialty is cinnamon pumpkin pie." she added with a wink, nearly able to hear the singer's stomach growl with enthusiasm. "Wull, I do like pumpkin pie…" he muttered quietly under his smile, rubbing his thumb along the book's spine. "They will have games and contests, and horses. I have never seen a horse up close before. I would love to touch one. And they will have a live band performing, and for once it is not us!" she finished, nearly giddy with anticipation. Chuckling at her childlike innocence, 2D turned and pinned the flier against his wall among the many Polaroids he had posted there, "Awright, awright…after an' advertisement like that, 'ow could I say no? Sounds like fun." he smiled, turning back to her before making himself comfortable.

Turning to the page he had last left off, the singer glanced down, arching a brow when the girl held her smile, although softer now. "I have not told you the second condition under the terms of that promise." Furrowing his brows, the bluehead pinched his fingers between the closed book, leaning up a bit. "I want you to wear the glasses to the festival." His eyes popped a bit before his head rocked along his neck like a plastic bobblehead, "B-B-But-"

"There will be open stage for poetry reading and the town café will be serving free drinks and snacks….I have written a few pieces…and I want you to read them."

Her emerald eyes pleaded with him to release his fear and insecurities for just one night among a group of farm folk who would most likely have no idea who they were out in the Styx somewhere and far away from anyone like Murdoc. Swallowing hard, the singer slumped a bit, poking his finger along his sheets, "Wull, …if its only for-"

"The entire time."

He whimpered in reply.

"Do we have an agreement?"

He nodded his head limply, resting his chin against his chest when he was done. Smiling brightly, the young girl leaned over and pecked his head with a pat to his cheek, "It is only for your own good. How else will you see the bits of pickles I may or may not toss into your pie?"

* * *

**Author's Note**:_ Short and sweet. I remember having this tidbit in my mind long ago, but never had enough motivation to do anything with it. I like how it turned out. Still working on many short stories and chapters for all my others. Trying to squish everything through before school starts again. I can't wait for fall. I'm tired of all this heatwave nonsense. _

_Fun Fact: The Good Omens is by Neil Gaiman and its basically a parody of The Omen. _


	7. 1966

1966

The meat was tender, slipping through and between his teeth with each desperate bite, but ribs very rarely had much meat on them, and hardly ever enough for a mouthful. He couldn't remember the last time he had had a decent dinner, or a meal at all for that matter, but savoring every last bit of barbeque sauce was his current goal with every last bit of thanks to the old geezer McCarthy for turning his back during a failing conversation. One would think by now he would have learned to never take your eye off a Niccals. Infamous around these parts, they were. Delicious. Couldn't remember the last time he had used that word to describe food, either.

Dropping the gnawed bone on the plastic plate with a thud, the twelve year old slurped his grimy fingers clean, listening to his stomach's pleads for food slowly dim down to digestive gasses. The apartment had been creepily quiet the past hour, and it was exactly how he liked it. It was safer that way. His ears were accustomed to the oddities of his neighborhood and should anything be amiss, he would know it before his digestive track would. The lad took a deep breath, releasing a small burp in the process. His brow arched as he glanced over his shoulder at the shaded room behind him, door ajar and life vacant. He hadn't seen the old man all day…yesterday, morning was it? Hung over at the table with his coat pulled over his head, any motivation to move from that position a foreign thought. He had quietly tiptoed around the snoring beast to check for anything edible, and as expected, the most he could find was a few salted crackers (stale) and a couple of half empty bottles, their contents a mystery save the smell of burning alcohol. School was nearly enticing to him now for the grubby little lunches alone; however, when he returned in the afternoon, the eldest Niccals was nowhere to be found, and to be honest, life was much more wholesome.

The apartment had been entirely silent, save for his practiced whistling (which was improving much to his enjoyment), the arguments in the flat over with the occasional thumps and broken potteries, and the buzzing of the police vehicles followed by their sister ambulances to save the good people of his personal cesspool. And despite the minor disturbances, he didn't mind. He couldn't appreciate such sounds when his father was around, flipping over their broken furniture in drunken rage or grabbing him by his hair to threaten his life face to face. The pain shooting throughout his body and the blood pulsing in his ears often blocked such things out. He almost found beauty in the urban norm. His eyes had opened to a sunnier morning, alone and pleased. The saved bit of crackers became the last bit of breakfast and off to school he went, ignoring the teachers and anticipating the vomit inducing meal plan his country had prepared for him, made of peas, liquid, and crunchy bread. With the mix in his stomach, he had run off as soon as the bells rang, not bothering to pay mind to the homework assignment being yelled out over the rush of juveniles who had had just about enough of the good sir's monotonous voice, thanks very much. McCarthy's had always been a favored spot among the youth of the area, although the owner of the shop himself was less than pleasant to be around. What with rumors buzzing around over the old man's past, one could never be entirely certain what the geezer had up his sleeve, no matter how neatly pressed he kept them. But the boy had already made up his mind.

Upon his entry, the elder delivered the foulest of looks, knowing a child of hellfire had just dared to step into his blessed establishment. "Yeh 'ave some nerve showin' yo face in 'ere, Niccals." barked the old man, his firm build an oddity compared to his age. No one was ever quite sure how old the man was exactly. No one had dared to ask, and the boy hadn't any interest in it. The lad ran a hand through his scraggily mane, flashing a sly grin, "Didn't know it wos a crime teh step into this place, _sir_." Wrapping up a toasted bagel for his customer, the elder gave the boy a dark glance, arching his brow as he reached for the tape to package the meal, "You Niccals are nothin' but trouble. Yeh 'ave dark shadows followin' yeh, attackin' everyone you come in contact wit, an' I'm not appreciatin' that one bit. You best move along before I take authoritive action, boy." It was between his threats and when his attention was turned on the next customer that the child took his chances at the steaming plate of ribs just teasing his nose tantalizingly so. Nicked it right from the counter he did, and under the old man's nose, though he was bound to figure out what had happened soon enough.

And racing all the way, he had made it home in record time, opening the door with little difficulty (the lock was nearly broken, and really, who in their right mind would rob them?) to find the apartment entirely empty, save the few bits of furniture they had. Very quietly he had checked and double checked all three rooms, making absolutely sure there wasn't anyone hiding in a corner somewhere for an unfortunate visit, and he silently sat, beginning his dinner. He couldn't imagine a moment as great as this, not even in his deepest dreams. Everything was just too…perfect, for what perfect could be. He only wished he had managed a drink in there, but he was far too proud of himself to complain. The ribs would have to do. Very gently he raised the next piece, pausing for a slight moment before chewing along the side. He could have sworn he heard a feint scream coming from outside. His conscious cleared immediately upon his swallow. What was he to do? It wasn't like the Niccals household kept a phone. Weapons 'o plenty, but a young lad of twelve years could only do so much, and without a clue of his opponent's potential, he was as good as useless. He did have his trusty bat tucked ever so neatly under his bed for such an occasion, but he didn't exactly want his old man to know of it. It was just as much a toy as it was a weapon, and the old Niccals would have none of that as far as he was concerned.

Safety wasn't the man's priority when it came to the matters of the boy. He wasn't entirely desired, nor cared much for, but his presence _was_ required, and for this, the old git let him stay. The boy had access to certain things and places _he_ didn't, and this was a definite positive when thinking over his situation with the lad. Society was kinder towards the younger generation for some odd reason, holding harder grudges against the elders who spawned them, and laws hardly punished them as severely as they did adults. Strange world it was.

His tongue poked along the side of his mouth, running across as it grabbed every bit of sauce it could before disappearing into its cavern. He savored every moment. Who knew when he was going to get a taste of heaven again? He had never asked for this life…The boy often wondered about it. Why had his mother dropped him here? Had she no heart? She _knew_ what his father was like…Could she honestly think he was fit to raise a child? No…of course not…it was _he_ who was raising that beast…Any and nearly all food brought into that flat was his doing, anything brought by _him_ was consumed there and then, leaving the poor boy to only look on longingly. He was often brought on "business" trips to keep quiet and make certain deliveries…unsure of what was contained in the boxes he offered said strangers (shady and sketchy to the very least of descriptions). He performed for the drunkards at the local pubs, a quid a show per viewer (not entirely a fair deal in the lad's opinion), and very rarely a few pence thrown in for pity's sake. And on some days, when they were extraordinarily tight on budget, he would be forced to stand on the corner, hustling the scum of society for a risky job or flat out begging. It did nothing for the esteem of this poor child, at times recognized by his peers and typically jeered at until free time during school, when they paid their dues as cushions for his fists. The crew he was socially active with were of very few lads with not much to say for themselves, and he, himself, a growing boy with a dysfunctional past wasn't one to much envy.

He stood at a fair five feet one inch when he wasn't slouched, a rare act to catch him on when he was upright and held his spine there. His hair a mangled midnight, bits curled and other parts straight, a forever battle between good and evil, though he didn't mind it much. His best comb was his hand in the morning; a good comb was hard to come by since his father needn't require one with his pin straight locks. It rested messily on his shoulders, nearly blinding his eyes as he continually shook it from his vision to only view a curtain of hair once more. It framed his rather thin face, pale a sure complexion if there ever was, with an odd eye selection that seemed a bit raffled. He didn't know who he had inherited the trait from, be it his unknown mother or his damning father, though asking wouldn't solve much on his end. Taking a word by the old man was as good a word as rubbish off the floor. He'd simply be allowed to sit and wonder. He had too much to wonder about…and if given enough time, it would have him in a bout of depression far from professional repair, but he was hardly given enough time to himself to think on such things. Today was a rarity.

His stomach dropped twenty feet as his ears perked at the slightest knob jiggle. The geezer was home. Eyes dropping to his lap (and the evidence on it), the boy quickly snatched up the bones, jogging to his room in a sprint. With one hand he attacked the fussy lock on the window, popping it open for a second before tossing everything out, paper plate and all, letting it slightly slam on itself, the musty air of summer's warmth smacking him in the face like Satan's morning breath. With a rough sigh, the awkward lad dusted himself off, peering out of the darkness of his room. The knob was still twisting, released too early before pushing, or pushing without twisting. Could someone be trying to break in? The lad's neck stretched out a bit further, leg curved back towards his bed. Perhaps he'd need that bat after all…

A sharp smack.

No…it was the old man. Trying his very best to open the door in a drunken form of concentration at the very least, the boy was sure of it. Crossing his arms, he leaned his shoulder against the door frame, finding the man's efforts humorous. All good days come to an end, and he wasn't about to rush it. He could easily lock himself in the room and pretend to have been sleeping. It was a routine hobby of the child's. There wasn't much else to do at home. His body sucked back into the thick shadows as soon as the door swung open, the groans of a weary and grumpy Sebastian J. Niccals a decent enough warning to the lad should their paths be crossed. But his eyes couldn't help but catch onto the rather large package in the man's grip…large enough to be impressive. It seemed a bit battered, black in color, with a large jagged frame cover over the top, and what appeared to be metal or plastic rimming the bottom. It was interesting enough the boy decided, stepping out into the light as the elder tossed his hat on the edge of his chair, plopping the thing down on the table. He wiped the gathering sweat off his forehead, damning the musty heat of the apartment before squinting at the ordeal, head tilted a bit oddly. The man stood stationary in that position without a movement of muscle before his son inched around, peeking out at the grand secret.

"Wot's that, then?"

Sebastian plucked the fag from his lips for a blow, poking at the baggage, "Dunno. Found it out front." He took another drag, peeling at his shirt before spinning the object, looking for a trigger to pop the hatch. He froze for a moment, eyes staring down when the package not only hiccupped, but outwardly breathed. The man's long and mangled fingers retracted in a twitch, pulling away as the lad came closer, brows arched curiously. "Yeh 'ear that? I think somethin's in there! An' alive…" he muttered, inspecting the casket, digging his fingers under the rickety material. With a rough snap, the canopy lifted, caving in on itself like an accordion to reveal the prize inside. However, silence seemed to be the winner as the two stared on. Within this…cradle…is what it seemed like…was a babe no older than a few days worth. His skin was a cool autumn's porcelain, hair as thin as floss, but on its way to the color of an abyss. He was rather tiny, curled in a swatch of blankets, tender face unaffected by the spoils of the world. Lovely little creature, really.

"A…baby?" the boy couldn't help but utter, unable to bring himself to do much else than gaze upon the newest life. He could feel the air tighten around him as his eyes slowly lifted to his father, a stingy pout frozen on his features. Pulling away from the scene, the man dove into the fridge, looking for one of his concoctions on a sour note, "Thought it would've been somethin' useful. Yeh should've seen the fuckin' birds swarmin' that carrier…'ad me thinkin' it wos a food drop off or somethin'." The tab snapped as he found the one he was looking for, slamming the door shut and slightly startling the little one. "'ew the fuck drops off babies on my doorstep, I wonder? 'ew's teh say its really mine? Bugger don't look a thing like me!" the man barked, glaring down at the newborn as he weakly opened his eyes, adjusting to the light. And the boy quietly gasped, locking eyes with the babe for just moments, but it was all he needed to assure himself. Between the squinting lids and lashes were the two oddest colors mixed together, a deep brown…and a bright bloody red. The boy slowly touched his own cheek, directly under the matched eye of his brother, its odd ended partner a deep blue. It seemed Sebastian's genes held a weakness of the iris's pigmentations….and a fool proof of evidence that this was indeed his spawn.

"_Fuck_."

The boy's shoulders lurched, realizing how close the man was to him, almost peering over his shoulder to glance at his creation in disgust. He knew just as well as the boy. There was no denying it. Pressing the can firmly to his lips, the man turned on his heel, waving his hand about in silent thoughts. He paused for a moment before shaking his head, throwing out an arm at the boy, "Hannibal. Take care of it." he ordered darkly, flicking his fingers as if wet before locking himself in his domain. Brows fused together, the boy scratched along his head, glancing down at the tiny life before him. He seemed awake for the moment, eying as much as his heavy head would allow before gasping (as all babies do), growing very bored very quickly while his lids shut once more. "Take care of it?" the boy repeated, his face a twist of uncomfortable jitters. What did he know about taking care of babies? He barely managed surviving on his own…never mind supporting another life entirely. Well…He looked over the tiny thing, shakily reaching a hand out. He'd have to touch him at some point…

The skin was cool to the touch, even in the sticky weather, although he could see the babe was a bit uncomfortable swaddled in all that material. He began to peel the layers until the child was sitting nearly starkers, save the single diaper wrapped around his rear. Han stared blankly for a moment in curiosity, head arched as his finger grew closer and closer. What _was_ that? Was that attached to him? As far as he knew, belly buttons didn't come with extensions…looked rather neat, actually…

The baby's eyes flew open at the slightest poke, a look of dissatisfaction morphing on his little face. He cringed, snatching his hand back before his eyes grew into a wide panic. The child didn't look too pleased, his face scrunching up as his ears reddened, fists curled into tight little fists. "Shit…" muttered the preteen, tenderly resting his hand along the baby's dome, hushing him down before he did something they'd both regret. The attention seemed to do the job as the little one's eyes grew heavy, trying their best to look up at his brother. Once he was sure the tyke was out for the count, Hannibal Niccals drew in a deep breath, picking up the carrier with some difficulty before waddling to his room. With a slight thump he settled the thing on the floor, rubbing his chin in thought. A brother…he had a little brother now. A brow rose as the baby lifted a small fist, sucking along it in his sleep. He wasn't sure how he felt about it yet. It seemed…unreal. How was he possibly going to manage this task? His eyes darted up, feeling the horrible chill along his spine, overshadowing the two youngest, "Didn't I tell you to take care o' it?"

Brows furrowed in confusion, the boy shrugged harmlessly, "S'wot I'm doin'? 'e ain't cried o' nuthin'." Taking a hard step into the room, the man's boot thunked against the weary wood, sleepily spooking the tiniest Niccals from his slumber. His arms crossed, hunched over as he eyed the boy, another step making their distance quite uncomfortable. "I said take _care_ 'o it. As in, get it out o' my _sight_! We ain't got no room for another freeloader!" the eldest hissed, poking a rough finger into the lad's chest. And in that jab, the preteen couldn't help but feel an odd pity. Not for the tiny babe yelping his kitten like cries from the loud volume of his own father, but for himself…he didn't want to be alone in this. It wasn't fair. Finally, someone else to talk to…to understand…to…to pass the torch. "Fuck it, I'll do it meself." the old man barked, taking a charge towards the bassinette before Hannibal thrust himself in front of it. The two glared at each other for a moment before Sebastian snarled in both impatience and defiance. The boy was in for it now. "Don't you touch 'im." the lad growled, holding fast and strong to his place. Who knew what this man's intentions were towards that child?

"Out of me way!" threatened the man, hand only barely stinging from the slap. The boy slowly opened his eyes, doing his best to shake off the pain and ringing from his right ear. It wasn't anything he couldn't handle. The Brit's fingers quickly curled into a firm fist, ready to strike at any moment….

"Can't you see it? Yo' sittin' on a mini gold mine, 'ere!" the eldest child burst, arms still protectively held out as the babe behind him bawled louder in his casket. The fist slowly lowered, as if each thought were processed by it before registering to the brain. Sebastian Niccals was interested. His eyes shimmered in bored curiosity, allowing his son a maximum of ten seconds before his hostility would take over. "Look…I'm gettin' on in me years, an' yo' nearly maxed out. People'll expect more outta me…they ain't so kindly the older yeh get. Wit 'im…well 'e's a fresh start. Babies are the world's weakness. They feed on pity that everyone will be so willin' to provide for us. Spare a quid o' two? Me baby brother's gotta eat." the thin boy suggested, a growing grin matching his vile scheme, "An' not just 'at…'e's a filler for my shoes once I'm off. Yeh don't 'onestly think I'll be pokin' my nose around 'ere when I'm grown, eh?" The eldest Niccals glared down at his son, however contemplated his convincing theory. He _had_ made a tad more when Hannibal was younger…

Poking a finger into his ear, Sebastian gave the basket a light sneer, miffed at the sound coming from it, "If yeh make it that far…" Scrunching his long nose, the man shook his head, pinching the boy's far harder than necessary between his knuckles, "Keep it alive then. They're more useful that way. An' _shut_ it _up_." he growled, clenching his teeth before storming off, slamming the door on the way out. Sighing in immediate disbelief, Hannibal rubbed along his neck, wiping the sweat off on his jeans. It worked. His plan had worked. He turned on his heel, peering down at the smallest of his family, shaking his head. A new life, just waiting to be destroyed. His eyes searched around until they landed on his school bag, dumping the contents on the floor, dusting it off carefully. It would do the job well enough, he assumed. Squatting down, the boy grabbed at a single blanket, tucking it along the inside of his bag as lining, tenderly tucking his hands under the babe's pits, winning a brief moment of attention. "You owe me." muttered Hannibal, tucking the infant into his bag with another blanket, making sure the little one was comfortable and safe. He would have to bring him…that casket was far too heavy. "Yeh know where you would've ended up?" he piped a bit roughly, although the baby seemed interested in his quiet tear stained moment of silence. His hand reached out for a third covering (or stuffing at this point), nicking at something sharp. Pulling his hand back quickly, he looked on darkly at what seemed to be a card tucked into the corner of the carrier, dented and yellowish from the humidity. Pulling it out, the elder arched a brow, glancing down at the tiny one sucking along his fingers in the cramped but cozy pack. He slipped an arm through the strap, holding the bag close before semi zipping it, just enough so he could see the child's face peering up into the world. With careful footing, the Hannibal reached up and lifted the window, resting his foot along the firm lid of the metallic garbage cans. His mismatched eyes locked with the uncoordinated ones of his new brother, taking a quick breath of fresh air, "Whelp…I guess we're off teh find yeh some food, Murdoc Alphonce Niccals…Not the title I would've 'ad in mind but…we'll see if it sticks."

* * *

**Author's Note**: _Well, definitely a different take than anything I've written before. I love filling in the blanks in story lines. I still manage to find something in the past when there's so many free gaps I can do with the present. I came across a discussion with someone over who exactly took care of Muds if his father was so horrid...and I could only imagine Hannibal doing the job. And yes, I've changed the title of this massive umbrella. It seems more appropriate, I think, and really, the previous title was a filler until I could think of something worthwhile. And I've also changed my pen name. (It's about time, too.) So, while these are more serious based mini fics, my other set of mini fics, "Captain's Log" are more humorous and on a lighter tone...as well as Plastic Beach themed. I will not be posting Plastic Beach themed fics under Banana Peels. This is solely for Phases 1 and 2._


	8. Finders Keepers

Finders Keepers

She had never felt so nervous and lightheaded before as she skipped carefully, but merrily through the mold encrusted halls of Kong. Her small chest filled firmly with the deep breath she took, adjusting her massive helmet with her free hand as the other carefully held on tightly to the rather large box in the other. Her fingers curled around it, making absolutely sure the contents would not find their way out. And as she walked, her emerald eyes peered out at the cloudy sky of the lands, accompanied by the wisps of broken leaves floating around, all neutral color bits smacking into the tombstones below. She didn't mind that her new home of now a good two months worth was located far away from civilization. She had three perfectly interesting roommates who had, over a short and heated discussion, warmly opened their doors to her and had since then provided for her needs. And they had been the perfect match in all honesty, for she required them in her time of amnesic need, and they required her for their musical dream.

She had grown close to the one called Russel; confiding in him and deeming him as her ultimate protector. The other two popped in and out of her life as quickly as the meals they ate, or the songs they practiced, not entirely sure of what to think of them. 2D had much patience, though she required an equal amount for him as well. He was oddly looking, though in no way negatively, and very boyish in his habits. He enjoyed picking the sugary bits from his cereal before pouring the milk, doing his best to pretend his interest was in the news of the current day while his eyes wandered towards the movie and comics sections. He seemed lost in his own world, and perhaps body, unable to realize he was in fact a man during his episodes of hero worship towards the eldest of the bunch, Murdoc, or finding the need to raise his hand in order to assert his opinion. And when nervous, he often sucked in his bottom lip through his double toothed gap until it popped back out with a watery smack, most likely unaware of his own habit.

Murdoc liked to push him around, most certainly because he was sure to get away with it. During her observations, she realized he rarely used physical contact with her beloved Russel, even during the most heated and perhaps, out of hand, arguments. He liked to flatten out his hand before shoving it upside the taller man's head, shoulders always popping up in reaction. And when he would laugh at this, his chest would heave, and his grin would grow twice the size of its normal potential, revealing his unusually sharp and rarely cleaned teeth. He believed he was the best of all of them, in body, mind, and talent, though through those strangely mismatched eyes, she could see the stress wearing him down. He drank both tea and coffee together during meals, and consumed numerous amounts of alcohol throughout the day. His favorite hiding place was his "Win-ey-bay-goh", and though she was never allowed inside, or even near, it was the one place he quietly sighed in, mumbling to himself in tones that were much less confident than he had displayed. He had less than reasonable patience for anyone, especially her, and she was firmly positive he had offended her every chance he could in his own mother tongue while she stood on the other side of the language barrier.

But during practice, they held a common respect for each other, and it was most likely the only thing they shared. Both musicians performed on string instruments, and therefore understood the complexity of the other's work. They were natural enemies in the recording room, battlers in practice, and rivals in music. Not once was the band spared a day where she and the eldest did not compete for the position of best string player. Not once did either let up or tire of the challenge. And not once was anyone able to make the decision of winner. They did not _have_ to like each other. But they did enjoy the company.

Russel was different.

He liked to eat. He liked to cook. He knew things that he enjoyed sharing with her. He made sure she took her showers, and cleaned her teeth, brushed her hair, and kept her room tidy. He opened her eyes so she could try new things, and not judge them by how they looked, smelled, or anything that might steer away from what the particular thing was deep down. Russel kept the peace between the other two, and Russel's word was the final word, even though Murdoc felt mumbling afterwords deemed him winner of that. He enjoyed spending time with her, making her feel safe with those warm milky eyes, making her laugh and buying her toys so she wouldn't feel so lonely. And Russel was a keeper of secrets. He would hide many little treasures in his drawers, putting a finger to his lips before showing her. A screwdriver here...a wrench there. And his room that the other two didn't know of yet. That room filled with his...his art. Only she had seen it. Only he had allowed it. And for that, both scared, nervous, and proud, she accepted his friendship, and the friendship of the separate soul hiding within him as well. Russel kept many secrets.

Her chest thumped nervously, knowing she would have to confide in him for this. Perhaps Murdoc _did_ own this building, the way he walked around and slammed things the way he did, but he did not own her. She was Russel's. And for the first time in their trusting friendship, the fact did not seem so entirely comforting. He always offered her the best things: toys, books, decorations, treats. She could never replace him no matter who would come into her life. But she would never want him to doubt their friendship, either, or give him any reason to. The rock in her stomach tightened, twisting through all her lower organs as she found herself mimicking the bluehead, teeth gripping her bottom lip. Now if she could only find him. Her best chances were the kitchen. It was nearing dinner, and Russel liked to cook before Murdoc threatened to. She honestly hoped they weren't around. She only sought acceptance from Russel...an audience would be no help.

Her throat tightened as she took her last step down the stairwell, the kitchen light emitting out into the hall, a rather thin shadow crossing over from one side to the other. She would have to peek. Perhaps he was near the stove. She could simply ignore 2D's presence. Holding the box with some difficulty, the child peered in, squinting at the figure sitting at the wooden table, unfortunately looking up from his cup when she did.

"Oy, dullard? Yeh ever 'ad a puppy?"

The young man glanced over his shoulder at the leader, noticing the child at the doorway before offering her a small smile, "Yeah, when I wos a kid. Why?"

"Don't them things come wit papers?"

Murdoc ran the edge of his mug back and forth between his hands, eyes never moving from the girl. Her cheeks puffed up in a pout as she realized Russel was nowhere to be found. Only these two.

"Wot's yo' point, Murdoc?" the singer mumbled, quite sure he wasn't entirely liking where the conversation was heading. He propped up on his tiptoes to reach a soup can way in the back, tossing it in boredom once seated on the counter. Russel had mentioned something about grocery shopping, so any form of dinner would come to Kong half eaten by the man himself. 2D was satisfied with a simple bowl of soup. Odd that Russel hadn't taken the girl. They were inseparable at times. "Don't 'uman's 'ave somethin' like that, too?" the man grumbled, offering the child a sincere glare. Sighing, 2D watched on, quite unimpressed. Nothing could please that man. Nothing at all.

"Yeh know, that's not very nice, Murdoc. She's not a bloody dog. An' even if yeh wanted papers, how are yeh gunna explain it? She got shipped to yeh in the mail, package wit yo' name on it? Sounds a bit shady, don't it? Yeh might fall into a bit o' trouble for that one. An' adoption takes-"

"Oy, I ain't 'avin' tha' language in my house, faceache. 'ave yeh gone mad? _Adoption_...as if I can 'andle _you_ bein' 'ere. Yeh think I want _that_ followin' me around legally?" the man barked, jerking his thumb at the girl. She poked her tongue out in response, rolling her eyes before glancing down the hall in thought. Where else could the drummer have gone? He hadn't been in his room...

"Geez, Muds...It wos only an option..." the young man mumbled, setting the can firmly on the counter as he slid off. Reaching for a pan already set on the stove, he glanced around for the can opener, tilting his head out at the girl with a small smile, "'sides...she's cute an' does no 'arm. An' _talented_ at that. She'd make an awfully good kid for _someone_." Leaning back on his seat, Murdoc scratched along his neck with a yawn, pushing his empty cup away, "Yeah...don't give me any ideas. I might just set 'er up wit one." The bluehead pulled up faster than he had planned to, knocking the top of his head against the inside of the floor cabinet, can opener in hand. His fingers rubbed along the offended bit, looking towards the girl in sympathy, "Don't send 'er away, Murdoc! We need 'er! An' she's little...and Russel wouldn't like it." he threatened with a slight pout, however the girl's eyes darted, smile growing, "Rusu-kun?" Both men glanced at her before sharing their own, neither bothering to answer her. Picking up the rejected cup, 2D placed it into the sink, snagging up the can opener to struggle with the crank. His chest heaved as his fingers cramped and burned. Why didn't they own an automatic?

"Not sayin' now...or even when...but yeh'll see. You two'll be thick as thieves. I can feel it." the singer whispered, cringing when the bassist growled in reply, his hearing not as damaged as the lad had assumed. Twisting up the paper along the table, Murdoc rolled his eyes, tapping the end of it into his palm, "The band is a business, Stu. Quicker yeh learn that, the quicker yeh'll realize people come an' go. It ain't a play 'ouse, it's not fun time, an' its _not_ family." the man stressed, crossing his arms while glancing out the window. The sun had already set, leaving a misty purple glow along his landfill. It took a certain type of person to enjoy the view, and he seemed to fit the bill quite nicely. Finally cracking open the aluminum, 2D poured the vegetable contents into the pot, wincing an eye while figuring out which nozzle turned on the correct burner. Swirling the mixture with a clean spoon, he sighed, glancing over his shoulder. The man could be so stiff and cold towards the world. Why couldn't he see the blessings the universe had given him? The opportunities there for the taking? Appreciate the few humans who actually stood by his side willingly, unlike most? The bluehead cringed, this time with his shoulders, as the band's front man snorted roughly, coughing a bit before swallowing. Well...Murdoc was one of a kind.

"I fink-"

"Do you, now?"

He glared over his shoulder, but none too long. Murdoc wasn't too fond of challengers who couldn't hold their own. His eyes darted back into his swirling, watching it all without focus, "...We _are_ a family...even if yeh don't like them terms. An' odd one...but we 'ave teh stick together if we wanna make it all work. An' we take care o' each other...live together. I fink a family sounds nice. Keeps things cozy."

"I ought to introduce you to mine. I swear, dullard...the shit that comes out o' yo' mouth...I should 'ave you garglin' soap for a week."

2D tapped the spoon against the edge of the pot, eyes side glancing Noodle. She was still there, thoughts forming in her mind, but failing her lips as she glanced around aimlessly, hands still gripping that strangely large box. And it was only then that he noticed it. Wiping his hands along his jeans, the young man crossed his arms, poking a finger towards her, "Oy, pumpkin, wot's 'at yeh got there?"

The child lifted her head towards him, gripping the package even tighter. Her English was fairly broken, however, she dedicated her free time to mandatory education in the language. Expressing herself completely would be a fine treat indeed someday. And she honestly couldn't wait for the day she would be able to tell Murdoc exactly how she felt about him. But until then, she was forced to use what she knew, and protect herself from what she didn't. "Mine." she stated, resting her chin along the top of the dented and shifting cardboard. The weight seemed a tad heavy for her, but she managed out of determination, eyes darting between the two men growing curiouser by the second. Scratching his chair back, Murdoc tilted his head, tapping his gnarled finger against the wood of the table, "I'll 'ave you know wotever's in this place is _mine_, girlie. I _own_ Kong Studios, an' if I decide I want wot's in that box, I'll be 'avin' it."

The bassist finished off his speech with a snort as he stood, making his way towards her as she growled at him, bearing her small uneven teeth at his self proclaimed royalty. Like hell he was taking this from her. This was _hers_. He'd have to fight her for it. She took a few steps back, lowering her head dangerously so before 2D took a few small steps (none too hard for distance with legs as long as those) in the nook between them, arms out before lifting them innocently. The glare the bassist was giving him was a lucky warning. Much else and he was in for it. "C-C'mon, Muds, she's just a kid. Wot could she 'ave that you'd want anyways? A toy or cards or somethin'? Wot good would that do yeh?" the young man mumbled with a nervous grin, pushing the child's helmet gently behind him, urging her to get a move on out from danger's path, but she would not budge despite his best efforts of heroism. She was a stubborn one, that Noodle. Just like their leader.

"I never 'ad _toys_ when I wos a kid, dullard." the bassist growled angrily, glaring out at the child's peering face, "Wot makes 'er so fuckin' 'igh an' mighty, eh? Toys'll clog 'er mind from practice an' Russ'll think it _good_ for the little brat to exercise the brain cells an' all that educational bull shit. Never 'ad a day wit 'em, an' look where I am. Top of the world, baby. Top of the world."

Brows falling wearily along his sockets, the singer ran his fingers along his neck, tugging at the shortest bits of hair. One never could just win against Murdoc. He always had the answers, even when the questions weren't asked. "Rusu-kun!" the child chirped behind him, pulling his attention over his shoulder. She tugged the back of his shirt, eyes curious and pleading. Holding out a sigh, 2D turned to face her halfway, never for a second thinking about giving Murdoc his back. That would only beg for trouble in all sorts of ways. "I'm sorry, love, 'e ain't in. Is that for 'im?" the pretty boy tried with his dumbing smile, kneeling to her height. She only stepped back twice, a bit doubtful of him as well, "Mine. Rusu-kun." she nodded, hoping to get her point across, but to no avail. The men were as confused as she. And then the box shifted.

Staring down at the object of discussion, 2D furrowed his brows, lips pulling back into a frightened grimace. "Wot the fuck..." he heard the eldest mutter behind him, his shoulder shoved into the bottom cabinets as Murdoc pushed him aside. The girl tightened her grip on the box, turning her shoulder against him, "No! Mine!" she snapped fearfully, knowing Murdoc was just the type to ruin everything before Russel could even see it. He grabbed at it while she clung relentlessly, continually screaming at him to let it go because it was hers and rightfully so. It wasn't he who had found it under her bed. It wasn't he who had cleverly thought of the idea to capture it. And it wasn't he who had successfully done so after hours of waiting, trial and error. These were her winnings, and he only wanted to claim them for himself, the selfish bastard. "Let it go!" he barked, whipping her into the singer who had just gathered himself up, receiving a powerful blow of 70 or so pounds to the gut, though managed a catch worth admiration. The young man's fingers clasped her tightly as she screamed for her box and Russel, face burning with hatred as Murdoc lazily popped the hatch to peek inside.

The box fell from his hands as soon as the damage was done, screaming along with Noodle as the small creature attached itself to his face, clawing along his head. "NOODLE, WOT THE FUCK! GET IT OFF ME, GET IT OFF ME! 2D! GET IT _OFF_!" he bellowed, slamming his body into the wall and cabinets, knocking over chairs and shoving the table across the room as he lost all sense of balance while wrestling with the little monster. Setting her firmly on the floor, the singer leaped at his hero, grabbing the spoon he had been using to stir with as the best weapon he could get for the moment. He bought it down on the maroon colored demon, whacking it and Murdoc with every thrust the bassist made, doing his best to avoid any claw attacks or tail whips it threw back at him. It hissed and growled and possibly even cussed between all the screams, twitching and screeching as it took a fistful of the bassist's thick hair to chew along. Squeaking at the horror of it all, the young guitarist threw herself at the man, latching onto his leg while tears poured down her face, "Stop it! STOP IT!" she screamed, begging in her own language that they would not hurt her new friend. Murdoc had upset it and it was only scared. It was only natural that it would protect itself from someone like him. He would make a fine pet with a little training.

She would make sure he was fed daily, and walked for exercise. He would be bathed and scrubbed and groomed so no one would complain of any smell besides Murdoc's occasional stench. She would teach him to use a litter box, or maybe even the toilet if possible. It had managed to avoid her traps for a few weeks now, it definitely had the potential of learning some advanced techniques. And she would talk to him and share her feelings because he didn't seem to speak the language of the men either...and maybe...just maybe they would understand each other, because they were both small and put to the side for more important things...and neither would ever feel lonely ever again...

Her grip on the bassist's leg grew tighter as he tried his best to shake her off while grabbing at the attacking demon, "DULLARD!"

_**THWANG!**_

The slosh of warmed soup slapped up against the wall and window, as well as Murdoc himself while 2D slowly lowered the weapon, twisting the handle expectantly. The creature's tail went limp for a moment, its grip on the bassist's face much weaker than before. It tried its best to lift its head, beady red eyes falling in and out of focus before the bassist took the chance to fling it into the wall, kicking one of the fallen chairs against it. Rubbing along his damaged face, Murdoc held his foot against the chair, pinning the creature against the wall, growling as the thing whined and whimpered in pain. "I'm gunna 'ave a field day wit you, yeh little wank..." the man hissed, curling his fingers into a tight fist before the child jumped up, climbing the side of his body to hang off his threatening arm, "NO! STOP IT! NO HURT!" she screamed, tears pouring down her reddened cheeks.

"THIS IS ALL YO' FAULT, ORPHAN! YEH SEE WOT THA' BASTARD DID TO MY FACE? DO YEH? YEH DON'T MESS WIT WOT YEH DON'T KNOW!" the eldest snapped, slightly releasing the pressure of his foot to yank her off. The demon took its chance and pulled itself out, scurrying away out into the balcony and clambered down into the landfill, safe from harm's way. "Oh, well that's just fuckin' great." he growled, glaring out towards the sliding doors before shoving the girl off his body. "'ew the hell told yeh to go playin' wit demons? Huh? _HUH?_" He loomed over her crumpled body dangerously, arms crossed tightly in order to control himself. He was about ready to throttle anything. And drenched in vegetable soup, no less.

The child's lip trembled as she wept for her future, her dreams now crumbled all because of these two horrid people who had just beaten and scared her only friend away. These...these _monsters_. Her dark jade eyes glared up, piercing through her choppy hair before she screeched, shooting out a fierce kick to the man's shin. She was on her feet before he could reach the floor, shoving him back into the table before he made contact. How could Russel have left her with this man? How _could_ he? "Hate, hate, HATE YOU!" the Asian screamed, stomping her foot down so hard with each word that the glasses along the crooked shelves clinked together in the earthquake. Her hand ran along her face, clearing up her vision before she turned to take off, her arm hooked and gently tugged back by the blue headed accomplice, "Noodle, wait! Darlin' it-OW!" he howled, ripping his hand from her sharp little teeth.

She was gone before he could nurse it tenderly, looking up in utter disbelief. The bassist's groans woke him from his stupor, nearly forgetting all about him. "Still think _adoption's_ in the works, dullard?" Murdoc hissed through clenched teeth, lifting himself as slow as possible. He hurt everywhere, from his face to his shins. He was going to feel it now, in the morning, and possibly a week from today. The singer peered over his shoulder, eyes large and tender, "S-She bit me..." His long fingers ran over the irritated skin, thumb prodding it as his lips sagged, peering out towards the kitchen doorway. Never had the girl ever used violence against him. Even in her fiercest of moods. He had always been able to calm her if anything, or at least pull a smile. What had he done wrong?

"Bit you? _Bit_ you? Oh me, oh my. Let's just push all my assault to the side while we find you a bandage, shall we?" the bassist snapped, pulling up his pant leg to inspect the damage. The kid had enough firepower in her to break a femur. A deepening black and blue, but otherwise working condition. He would live. For now. Gathering himself up off the floor, Murdoc dusted himself off quickly, knowing the faster he recovered, the less of the event 2D would remember and be likely to bring up in future chats. However, he seemed far too emotionally damaged to be paying the bassist any attention at all. He was still clutching his hand as if she had broken it, face frozen in fragile pain. Rolling his eyes, the bassist scoffed, shoving the table back in place, "Get over it, faceache. That's wot yeh get for defendin' the little monstrosity. She's cute an' does no 'arm. Don't send 'er away, we need 'er! She's little." he mocked, breaking his voice into higher pitches to annoy the young man, but 2D ignored Murdoc, squatting down over the box Noodle had tended to so desperately before. "I _promise_ you, if we didn't need a cheap guitarist, I would've 'ad 'er- wot's that?"

2D rose slowly, a small crumpled letter in his grasp. It seemed the little demon had scraped it across to the side when attempting to jump out, but hadn't destroyed the letter entirely. It was written in pencil, and seemed to have gone through quite a few drafts, eraser marks all throughout the sheet, some parts grey and dingy. And as the singer read, he could feel his heart shatter. She had written a letter to Russel, pleading in her very limited, though harshly worked English, "**Noodle find new friend in room. Can please keep him? He is like pocket monster. Would like very much to have friend can play with. Thank you.**" His bottom lip sucked through his gap, running his thumbs along the battered sheet, "Aw, Muds...she just wanted a _friend_..."

Snatching the note from him, Murdoc skimmed through the tidbit English, arching a brow grumpily. Shoving the letter back into the singer's chest, he turned on his heel to grab the fallen chair, "So she nabs a fuckin' demon? Wot the 'ell's wrong wit that kid?" Rubbing along his arm, 2D shrugged, eyes reading through for the tenth time and counting. He leaned against the counter, watching Murdoc shake his hair out, "I-I don't fink she _knew_ it wos a demon. Sounds like she thought it wos a...erm...one o' those, uhm...Pokemon things!" he snapped rapidly, trying to conjure the word. It made sense in his eyes that she would find one of the Kong demons to be some creature from her games or cartoons come to life. And it hadn't seemed to hurt her, which is why she thought it best to befriend it for some companionship, the poor little darling. And here they had practically killed her hopeful pet.

Slumping against the cabinets, 2D sighed, rubbing along his temples, "Kid just wants some playmate is all...she 'ates us..." Grabbing a paper towel, Murdoc rung his hair into it, snorting at the singer's mumbles. "'ates _us_? Pretty sho' she wos screamin' at me. Stop takin' the credit. Just another to add to my list." he huffed, tossing the soiled towel into the trash bin. His eyes wandered the wall sticky with soup. Russel could take care of that if he wanted. He wasn't about to lift a finger for a mess 2D had made. He barely tended to his own. "She bit _me_." the singer grumbled, looking up sourly at the other Brit's grim mug. "Oh, oh, right. My mistake. I always kick an' punch those I _favor_." he offered, flexing his fist with a growl.

Resting his rear against the floor, 2D sighed, running his fingers through his hair. The guilt was eating through his stomach, and he wasn't sure how much more he could handle. He just couldn't imagine the little girl crying up all alone in her room without a soul in the world to comfort her. They couldn't always be there for her. They were adults. They had lives to live...lessons to learn...deals to make...adventures to experience. And she was...Noodle. Small, sweet, delicate Noodle. Locked up in the depths of Kong without a friend to her name. Without a _name_ to her name. Even they had given her _that_. The bluehead tilted his head back, knocking it against the dark wood. His eyes lingered for a moment before rising towards the bassist. "Yeh know, we ought to do somethin'."

"Not interested."

"But Murdoc..."

"Wot did I just say?"

Pouting a bit, the singer flicked a bit of carrot next to him, shoving his chin into his chest, "Yeh know, she's not gunna wanna play for you...especially now."

The front man glared down at him, leaning against the table.

"Just so we'd be on good terms wit 'er...its not like you give 'er any time out o' yo' day. She needs more than a fuckin' room an' bed." he snapped, sinking into himself as soon as he had said it. He hadn't meant to voice _that_ bit. The bassist's heels clicked along the floor, pausing in front of the cowardice lad, arms curled over himself awaiting the worst. The looming shadow fell in front of the young man, crouched firmly in front of him, eyes piercing through his shaggy locks, "Wot exactly do yeh 'ave in mind?"

It had been two hours since the incident, though the young child held no account for this, as her chest slowly rose with the even breaths she took. Her eyes tenderly rested along her cheeks, lashes pasted to her skin from the tears that had sealed them. Occasionally she would hiccup in her dreams, and shift her body, but no more than that. The room was quiet. She had forgotten to turn off her beside lamp, hadn't intended to fall asleep at all. However, the sleepiness had taken over her after a while, and for once she was thankful she had somewhere else to wander through rather than the rancid halls of Kong. Her face pressed against her soft pillow, taking in a deep breath when the gentle knock on her door thumped, unaware of the lifeforms just outside. The handle jiggled gently before snapping open, the hinges groaning as the singer poked his face in, eyes falling on the sight before him. "Oh...she's sleepin'." he whispered with a hint of guilt, pushing the door a bit wider before Murdoc could complain.

"So now wot?"

"Wull, I'm not sho'...I mean do we wake 'er up?"

"Well, I ain't about to wait around 'ere all day until she does! I want a bite o' that pizza already, dullard. My stomach waits for no one."

"Awright, awright. Maybe we can just come back-"

The child's eyes slowly opened to the failing whispers of the two men at her doorway, hurriedly whispering among themselves into a harshly whispered argument much too rough to allow anyone to sleep. And she was quickly reminded why she had fallen asleep in the first place. "Leave." she said quietly, turning her back to the two who had fallen into silence. Wringing his hands nervously, 2D took a gentle step in, leaning in a bit further. How to even start? "Noodle...can we come in?"

Silence.

"Noodle, darlin'...we didn't...we 'ad no idea..."

"Yeh can't keep a demon for a pet." Murdoc interrupted, voice firm and final. The child's shoulder stiffened as she pulled a blanket over herself. 2D glanced at the bassist wearily, lifting his hands in explanation, "It's not that we don't understand yo' lonesome-"

"Them things are _dangerous_. Yeh saw 'ow that...thing...attacked me?" he muttered as 2D nudged him, begging to be gentle with his words, "That coulda been you. They ain't friends. Just vermin that crawl around Kong like rats an' zombies, tryin' the make our lives miserable. I swear I'll smash each an' every one of 'em wit the 'bago..." Murdoc trailed off as 2D shook his head, taking a careful seat next to the girl's body. His thin hand curled along the child's head, her helmet nestled next to her as if taking the place of another. His thumb rubbed along her cheek, feeling the fresh moisture running down, and his chest tightened, clearing his throat, "Aw, angel love...wot Murdoc means is that the demons of Kong aren't proper pets. They can 'urt you...an' we can't 'ave that. We want yeh safe...'ew else is gunna play me when I get some new video games, hm?" The girl twitched in his grip, and he took it as bait. Glancing back towards the bassist rubbing his nose, he added, "Or watch Murdoc blast off zombies in the carpark?"

The Brit glanced numbly at the singer, however felt no need to be annoyed with him. Having an audience didn't seem so bad...especially when relieving his violent ways. Perhaps she would find enjoyment in it as well. Maybe even rival him in it.

2D lifted his hand, crunching the springs as he rose, "Wull, seein' as a demon's out of the question..." The bed crunched again, but not by the weight of the singer's body. He pushed the package towards her back until she could no longer ignore it. Slowly she sat up, wiping her cheeks before looking up at him nervously, eyes falling once more on the box. "Go on." he smiled, taking her hand towards the top flap. Slowly, she lifted the cardboard wings, poking her face in with wide eyes. Within the box was a lump of newspaper lined all along the bottom, and in the very corner, a tiny kitten with shimmering fur of a bluish hue. It yawned gently, licking its paw before running it along its face, trying to make itself comfortable in its uncomfortable setting. "Koneko..." she whispered daintily, fingers barely brushing along its back as it curled in automatically at the touch. It mewed lightly, curling its tail as the young girl instantly fell in love, a small smile curving along her face. "'is name is Greg. I thought a kitten would be more suited to yo' tender side. Greg." he noted, pointing at the tiny creature, and she sighed, "Greg-chan..."

The girl hardly noticed Murdoc until he thrust his own box atop her bed, startling the kitten from its sleep and breaking the soft moment. The box shifted for a moment as Noodle stared at it, then up at the man himself. He pushed it towards her with a shrug, "While dullard fell over for a furball...this actually 'as some meat on the bones." The girl barely had a chance to open the box as it practically opened itself, a mostly white mutt bursting out in excitement. It barked in joy, wagging its little tail as it pinned her, licking away her tears while she giggled at its antics, scratching it along its stubby little ears. "'e's Green. 'e ought to be more than enough entertainment for a kid wit yo' energy. Keep up wit 'im." the bassist ordered, giving the pup a pat along its back. "Koinu! Green-chan!" she squealed, hugging the pup close to her as it tried to wriggle away playfully, digging into her blankets out of curiosity.

2D smiled as Murdoc nodded, both quite positive there would no longer be any need to worry about demonic pets and their young guitarist. The singer backed away, following the bassist as they made their way out of the room to allow the girl to get acquainted with her newest friends, however, he paused when his hand was tugged back, finding the child attached to it with watery eyes. She rubbed her small fingers against the red mark, placing a gentle kiss on the wound before digging her face into his gut, arms wrapped tightly around him. "Aw...no worries, love..." he beamed tenderly, crushing her back as lightly as possible. The girl pulled away with a thankful smile, wiping the tears from her cheeks before tackling Murdoc as he turned to call out for 2D, realizing the echoing steps were off. Managing to crawl halfway up his person, she placed her hands on his scratched cheeks, placing a soft kiss on each one before crushing his windpipe, refusing to let go even when he had demanded her to do so or "else". "Wot 'appened to all that 'ate stuff?" he muttered when he finally decided to support her body weight with his arms.

"What's goin' on?"

"Rusu-kun!" the child cheered, waving at him happily from her place in Murdoc's arms. The bluehead giggled into the back of his wrist at the expression of their leader, quite sure he was debating whether to drop her or not as Russel arched a brow, shifting the bags in his hands. "Uh...kid's been askin' for yeh all day, lards." he fumbled, halfway cut off by the commotion of Greg hissing at Green while the two broke free from Noodle's room, chasing each other in circles around the bunch before disappearing back into the girl's room once more. The four kept quiet as things were knocked over, growled at, or screeched over, 2D rubbing his head all the while as Noodle grinned at Murdoc who seemed at a loss for words. Jerking a thumb at the doorway, Russel tilted his head, "An' when did we get a zoo up in here?" Peeling the girl off, Murdoc sighed, pinching between his nose, "Don't ask, lards...just don't ask."

* * *

**Author's Note**: _First story of the school year, and for some reason I feel like its still summer. Its definitely hot enough to fool me. This was actually inspired by a drawing I saw on DA, so I thank that person who had drawn Noodle holding a demon by its tail for the inspiration. If anyone wants to see it, I'll link you in a PM or review reply. I had intended for the boys to actually kill it, but I made the soup splat the walls instead. It leaves things on a lighter note, and it was less traumatic for Noodle. I wouldn't want to scar her for life or anything. _


	9. Pressure

Pressure

His fingers trailed all around until they formed the sunken shape of his cheeks, tugging and stretching the skin until they dropped off contact, the soothing clear liquid speeding up the process. He allowed the water to simply drop off as his head hung over the plastic bowl he had taken out for the occasion, painted to look wooden and jointed by interlocking pieces. He had thought it interesting and ironic, feeling it described him in whole, this decently sized plastic dish. Interesting to look at, but just as normal as anyone else. Nothing special. Though he was often told otherwise. Made to believe it so at times.

His eyelids crunched in frustration, wrinkling up his nose before smoothing out, feeling the tingle chill of his skin as the parched air around him sucked his face dry. The base of his scalp rested against the mirror he refused to look into, back arched ever so slightly while his right hand rested slapped up just above his hairline. His other hand simply hung unto a curve across the top of his dresser, fingers barely touching the bowl before him. And in that, once his eyes drearily opened, he could see himself floating just along the surface. The face of fame. The icon of a god.

His mother loved him. She called from time to time, checking up to make sure he was still alive and breathing. Life often got in the way of such minor tasks. The talk always started off a bit awkward if anything, asking of business, personal life, hobbies...almost a memorized report to a faceless interviewer...and he would feel nothing. Then she'd discuss life at home, his father, the bills, chores, her job...the usual. A bit of silence. He'd stare at his mucky sneakers as he listened to her breathing and find a calm place, his chest tightening with anticipation for what could possibly come next, and there would come the question he was always too eager to answer.

When was her little jellyfish going to come home?

And for the life of him, he always wished he could say, now, mum, I'll head straight over. But the question alone urged him to shove his arms directly through the glass of his cell phone, spill into the holes of the speakers, stretch his body into the speed of sound until he exploded out of the device in her grasp to simply leap and melt into her motherly clutch...and everything would be all right. She'd rub her fingers through his locks while he napped along her nap, rolling her delicate eyes before wiping away a trail gathering along the corner of his lips, "Been a while since, huh, Bluray?"

He couldn't imagine a world without her tender touch, her simple voice...her entire essence reminding him that he was not more important than she, nor did it ever cross her mind. He didn't have to be _that_ man. He was just...himself. And that was okay.

His face came back into focus as his ears picked up a subtle knock ratting against his door. Painfully he pulled his head up, squinting towards his left before choking out a, "Yeah?" to end the horrid sound. The voice itself was small and humming, but he was sure most of it was drowned from the thickness of the wood and metal. "Practice time, D-kun."

His eyes fell on the clump of plastic and metal attached to his wrist. So it was.

He cleared his throat a few times, humming a little before dunking his hands into the water and giving himself a good splash, flicking the remaining drops back into the bowl. And into the mirror his eyes rose, the face of that ego he couldn't rid himself of. His pointer ran along underneath his socket, trailing the bruising permanently damaging his skin cells, while his thumb ran along his lips, knowing of the missing treasures within. It was everything he was known to be. Everything he wanted to be. And everything he wished at times he couldn't be. His hand trailed around for a decently smelling shirt, nicking a bright yellow one with a caution warning or something along the lines. He barely paid attention to those things. People would kill to have the very same one. With a sigh, he pulled it over his head, tugging his arms through before his neck popped, drying off the excess moisture on his jean clad thighs. His hips rocked a few times as did his head, closing his eyes for a moment in a premeditive jog before clapping his hands as he took a step to his door. Naps always totaled him. He couldn't imagine a time when he had actually felt refreshed. They often threw him into a waking world of despair, contemplation, and silence. He had to be he. He had to be 2D.

His fingers curled around the cool metal knob, yanking it open with a quick twist, smug little grin pulled along his cheeks, "You called?"

The short teen smirked back, the only expression readable under all her shaggy hair, "You know I did."

His gangly bulky knuckled fingers swam through her locks before flicking off his light switch, receiving a playful shove in return for his childish antics. She was no longer a little girl, and he knew this, but he couldn't help to keep the trust and innocence between them vivid. He had to keep that up. She was counting on him. Growing up in a household of only grown men she knew as her only family had obviously placed a lot of stress on the girl. Inspiration had driven her to write Demon Days...a young teen had written the next CD they were to put out as soon as recorded, and merely inspiration (along with determination) had whipped up this masterpiece? No...

His stride was slow and bouncy, sure to keep back with her smaller stepped pace as his eyes delicately fell on the top of her violet head.

No, that wasn't it. She wanted to prove herself. Prove her worth. Prove that she was just as good as any of them and her spot in Gorillaz was not by chance, but deserved. She wanted to earn her keep, and now that she understood left from right in multiple of languages, she had done it. Showed them all. Not any mere teen, but Noodle. Noodle of Gorillaz had written Demon Days, and the world was going to love her for it. Any mistake, any foul, it all rested on her shoulders now. But she was ready. Ready for anything.

He bit his lip as he gazed off ahead, clopping up the steps after her gentle ones. It wasn't right to feel jealous. Murdoc hadn't put any work up. Arrested away in Mexico, useless as fish tank without water. And Russel...well, he had been too busy pulling his mind together. And he...well...he had gone back home.

The lump in his stomach tightened for a minute before he swallowed it away. She was going to bring it all back again. Time slots, performances, interviews, videos, photo shoots, even word of an autobiography. This jellyfish was drifting further and further away.

But he had to come back. He had to return. Had it been for anyone else, the offer, the request would have been turned down without second thought. But for Noodle...he couldn't say no. Without him...well, her effort would have been in vain...and dream impossible. He had to be present. And he would do it. She depended on him.

"How are you feeling?"

He blinked rapidly for a moment, collecting his thoughts before storing them away should his expression accidentally give him away. He arched a slightly thick brow with a crook of a grin, tucking his swaying arms into his tight pockets, "As well as any other day, love." Her head shifted slightly, and he assumed she was giving him a more intense look than could be physically seen. "I heard you coughing the other night when I brought Murdoc a few sheet copies. It did not sound too good." She closed the second door behind them, eyes closed as a gust of wind blew at them from the cracked hole in the carpark, flushing her bangs to the side for a split second. It was a rare treat to see those eyes.

Those eyes were always watching. Apparently her ears were holding a competition.

Waving his hand before coaxing her to the elevator, he shook his head, smile holding true, or so he hoped. Fooling Noodle was no easy task. She was never one to believe he was as dull as Murdoc lead on. She had always been a clever child. "No worries, darlin'. Wos nuthin' more than a few tickles in the throat. Glass o' water cured it right up." he assured, ushering her into the metal box. Her cheeks slightly tightened in doubt, lips pursing a bit, but said nothing. His back turned on her for a moment, jamming his thumb against the second floor button. The ride up was silent. His fingers strummed along his thigh, counting each time the rickety old lift would jolt in place before lifting them further. Why they trusted that shaft he would never know. Noodle shifted her weight from heel to heel until the doors weaned open with a sharp crunch, marching down the hall with a quick left into the recording studio. And slowly he followed, the larger of them all already seated at his drum set with a newspaper in hand.

He nodded quietly as a greeting to them both, flicking his tongue along his thumb to get a better grip on his dry pages. The bassist was nowhere to be found.

Noodle grabbed her guitar and tuned it, checking a few chords here and there, making sure wires were in their place, amps plugged in, CDs loaded and read. She hopped from place to place between his heart beats he noticed, unable to comprehend her agility to do so. Within her tasks, he had simply managed to walk up to his keyboard, set it on its stand, and turn it on. He would be needing a microphone he concluded, eyes wearily scanning around before it appeared directly under his nose, propped with a stand and all. "Test it." the teen ordered, taping down the wire to the floor.

"I'm 2D. Won't you buy me...piano chord...dictionary?"

A slight buzz, ended by the turn of a nob.

"Perfect. Thank you."

His tongue ran across his teeth, ignoring the fact that many were missing in order to do his best breath freshener. He couldn't remember giving them a good brush after he woke...he had barely wanted to move. His throat swallowed hard, a bit of clearing scraping it a bit. The burn felt strangely good. Let him know he was alive, but he pushed these thoughts away as well. Murdoc had entered the room with a cold one in his hand and a few music notes in the other. He was a good as ready, as was Russel placing down his paper to trade for his sticks. Noodle fiddled around a bit more with the technical aspects until Murdoc assured her all was well and time was not on their side. And through all this, 2D nodded in agreement. Or bobbed his head to the music that was not there. Or felt like he needed to do something to rid himself of the disgusting feeling in his gut.

He had work to do. He was 2D now, no matter how much he wanted to curl into his bed, no matter how much he wanted to switch with the average Joe, no matter how much he longed to rid himself of who that man was...who he was...who he had to be...he was 2D.

Words were exchanged, beats practiced a bit, words hummed, they were ready. They were set. They needed to go. And he opened his mouth, lips pursed for a moment before belting a few melodious yodels, holding the microphone oh so close, eyes closed ever so slightly...and then everything went wrong.

His cheeks flushed darkly as the music halted, Murdoc's bass thud the most obvious of all, and if on purpose or not, the young man could not tell, though the sound equaled the rock settling stiffly in his lower abdomen. His bottom jaw trembled as his mind scurried around for an excuse, a joke, anything to blow off the embarrassment, but it offered him nothing but a blank slate, and only his throat could close tighter than it already was. He could have sworn his tongue was swelling, doing his best to swallow as his eyes darted from face to face, ending on Noodle's and try as he might, he couldn't pull away from her hidden stare, her lips thinly even as Murdoc simply held his wince, lip pulled up not quite sure what to think.

"...Wot the fuck wos _that_, faceache?"

The more he tried to clear his throat, the more it burned his chest, tightening, squeezing, strangling him dead as nails but kept alive to feel the pain. To be their target. To let her down.

He couldn't breathe, nor smile, nor stand up straight. This was his strong point, why had it left him? His fingers stretched along the keys, but twitched along, knocking finger into finger far from his control. He couldn't understand. The rest of them bickered amongst themselves, discussing deadlines, parties, schedules. They yelled and snapped, slammed things against tables, threw the blame around. And he could only listen,

"Of all the fuckin' times for 'is voice to crack like that-"

"He is sick with a cough, it is not best to-"

"Man don't take care of himself, I told him to-"

"-swear, dullard, you _knew_ we were recording today-"

"-few days would not hurt us, we have time-"

"-sounded like much more an' he'll be hoarse for a week..."

"-week! My arse, a week!"

And further and further his nerves sank until he slapped his palm against the power switch, clenching his jaw tight before trudging his way out from behind his stands. He could feel the back of his neck burn as he passed her, whispering out a tiny, "I'm sorry." as best he could, and whether or not she heard him, he wouldn't know. He carried himself out into the hallway, ignoring the bassist's threats, the drummer's confusion, and the guitarist's pleas. Perhaps he would face them later. Perhaps he would avoid it. He was sure at some point she would come searching for him. She proved herself to be quite skillful at that. But for now he only wished to hide his shame, for on his back he was carrying their world...and he had let them down.

* * *

**Author's Note**: _The stress of college...not even worth discussing between the paperwork, portfolios, and legal stuff. I'm ready to pull my hair out. But on the bright side, I went to the Plastic Beach World Tour and had my musical ass blown out. I love my Murdoc, 2D/Noodle shirts and mug. Right now they're posted along side my wall picture of Dirty Harry. All good stuff. I might write more. I've been drawing a lot, and I miss pouring out words._


	10. Not Those Kind

Not Those Kind

"_FFFFFFFFUUUUCCCKKK!" _

Her eyes widened before the quilt flopped over her face, blotting out the small candle she had been previously staring at. Her chest felt on fire, her fingers barely able to encase the small amount of fabric it took to tighten the lock the blanket had on her. It wasn't fair. How could she have been so stupid?

Nervously biting her dry bottom lip, the small child nodded her head a few times to regain her vision, jerking her neck up in twitches between each jittery breath, the mucus flow pausing her action to be sniffed back in. A pudgy hand lifted for a moment to rub away the remains of what had previously been tears, leaving behind red puffy cheeks and empty eyes. Her fingers curled in for a moment, nails digging deep into her palms as she tucked the loose ends of the quilt under her, entire body frame shivering under the material, yet it was barely autumn. Cool in the air, but hardly reasonable enough for the hefty sheet the girl had chosen to encase herself with. However, in it, she felt safe. Sound. Silent.

Scared.

She had run. Run away from them...those who had sworn to protect her...

It wasn't her fault. It wasn't! She had been caught off guard. How could they have put so much responsibility on her? She who barely knew them as they barely knew her?

_Sniff_...

Did they think she didn't frighten easily simply because she understood the practice of karate? What imbeciles. Knew they nothing of paternity? Her eyes roamed jaggedly around the room before settling back on the warm glow of her sole light. Tiny and shivering itself, but she maintained it tenderly. She wouldn't allow it to simply burn out. Her chest clenched as she heard a snap beyond her door, however as many minutes passed, nothing ever seemed to change aside from the length of her candle, and so she relaxed as best she could...and inhaled. She should have picked a scented one. At least she could have focused on the scent. A ginger...or soothing flower perhaps. Far too late to change her mind. Her hands found a tighter grip and soon enough she found her jaw was hurting just a bit. She barely noticed the grind her teeth had been clenching...only the tightness that overwhelmed her soul...her chest...her muscles...and her eyes...until nothing more could be done but release it all into the quilt that had been patiently waiting.

"_Ev-er-ee-ting daaark!" _

"_Looks like it, babygirl..."_

_The child's eyes popped behind her with the rest of her small body, ignoring the fact that her entire game she had been playing unsaved would remain that way. Her knees propped her up, resting her chin on the back cushion of the beat up old couch, fingers clipped on either side of her face as she glanced up at the massive male (or at least the shadow of one) making his way towards her. In his hand appeared to be a large wooden spoon filled with some concoction or other as he blew on it gently, took a whiff and sipped a bit, humming his thoughts of indecisiveness before offering the experiment towards the child. She tilted her head and squinted, unable to tell if the liquid was detergent, blood, or actual food, but hardly had a choice before the mold was already at her lips and propped up for easy_ _entry. It appeared the man had been making chicken noodle soup from scratch and was doing a decent job of it..._

"_S...s..."_

"_Salt?"_

"_Hai."_

"_Thought so, too."_

_Well, now that that was over with. Her almond eyes trailed around, licking her lips as she did so. Usually when the lights (or in this case, all of Kong) flickered out, the generator kicked back on after a moment or so. Her head turned towards the young man before her, expectant of his calm reaction as always during these type of situations and perhaps an insult jabbing towards the eldest of the bunch, but nothing more came than an arched brow and pursed lip. Odd. _

"_Rusu-kun? Why, dark?"_

_Because the generator is very old in this building and Muds won't spend the damn money to switch it out for a new one, baby girl. That's what you call a cheap ass dirt bag._

"_...It's calm out..." _

_The girl's brows furrowed for a moment before arching in confusion. What did the weather have to do with anything? She glanced over her shoulder, peering at the window to her left. It definitely wasn't pouring out...more like a light drizzle with soft winds. So it wasn't a terrible typical Kong Studios day. Her eyes widened as she was easily grabbed by the scruff of her cream jacket, plopping down on the large man's wide shoulders before he dropped off his spoon in the kitchen and traded for a hoe leaning along the porch door, scooping up a decently sized butcher's knife as well. He hiked it up towards the young girl, offering her the handle, "Hold this for me, baby girl? Be careful with it, its not a toy." She nodded and with one hand gripped it tightly, honored to be in charge of such a tool, her other arm using the man's bald dome as an arm rest. Her body popped when the drummer took his first step, giggling slightly with a sense of excitement, wondering what situation could call for such odd tools aside from a power outage. He trudged down the hall, ignoring the filthy marking along the walls until he arrived at one door at the very end of the hall, his hand resting on the knob for a sensitive amount of time, veins in his hand pulsing with every second. With a quick jerk, he yanked it open. There was only darkness. And down the stairs, even more so. _

"_Muds?"_

_His voice echoed around and down the stairwell, dispersing into the wide space they liked to call the carpark. A bit of shuffling, but nothing more. The young man's grip on the doorknob grew tighter, and the gardening tool rose. "Muds? You down there, man?" _

_Silence. _

"_Mudo-kun?"_

_She listened as her voice carried off as far as it was going to, receiving no more of a reply than Russel had. Her shoulders lurched as something downstairs tripped and banged into one of the many dumpsters they kept down there. "Rusu-kun! Stairs, down?" she suggested, worried their friend had drunkenly collapsed in the dark. It wasn't a far fetched notion at all, especially if one was to know the type of man Murdoc was. Being drunk before dinner was nearly expected on his behalf. The door behind them was left open as Russel's grip shifted from the knob to the railing. He nodded upwards, "You hang onto that knife for me, okay?" _

"_Hai."_

_The hoe jetted out in front of him like a blind man with his walker cane, taking one step at a time, and though it hadn't been said, she understood silence was key for this mission. They needed to find their friend, and sound was perhaps the best tool in their case. His foot hit ground, and the mass darkness was overwhelming even as their eyes did their best to adjust. The carpark, ironically enough, barely had enough outside light source to grace its way in. However, ahead and to the left there seemed to be a lit lantern floating above, something someone with at least half a brain was able to manage. As Russel took his first step forward, a shot rang out. And then another. And another. _

"_Oh shit! Muds! Not over here! Not over here, man!" _

"_Eh?"_

_The child held on tightly to the large man, doing her best not to drop the weapon she had been bestowed; however, managing to cling onto his bounding body was difficult enough when he wasn't holding her in return. The closer they treaded towards the light, the easier it was to identify that the lantern had been set up on the roof of the bassist's beloved Winnebago, with a rickety folding chair set up alongside it. Standing above them was the man himself, clad in a pair of thigh ripped jeans, brown saggy leather boots and a white undershirt, his golden chain dangling and reflecting the bit of light he had. His eyes squinted down at them for a moment before approving of his view, cocking the shotgun for a moment before slinging it against his shoulder. "The fuck yeh doin' down 'ere, lards?"_

"_I just **like** to walk around in the dark." _

_The child leaned both arms across the man's dome, propping up her shoulders before offering a smile at the bassist who arched a brow at the drummer's sarcasm. In her short stay she had already gained enough information to understand how things worked between the man beneath her and the one above. Everything waltzed around a fine line, and they simply begged to cross it on either side, but rarely did either actually intend to break the sacredness of the invisible line. They refused to work or live any other way. "Well, it looks like we 'ave a little infestation. An' rat traps ain't doin' the job." Murdoc replied, climbing into his RV for a minute, and with him, taking the sole light that allowed them to see their whereabouts. The door popped open with a squealing hinge, and on the corner, Murdoc hung the strap of the lantern, lighting a cigarette with the small encased fire he carried, "Seems like either one of 'em chewed through the wires...in which case that'll need some repairin' when the sun is up...or...the circuit breaker blew a fuse." He blew a small cloud into the shadows. _

"_Bad news is we'll 'ave to check either way. Worse news is the box is down in the lower level by the boiler room."_

"_What the fuck, man..."_

"_Ey, I didn't design the place. Only bought it."_

_The man's multicolored eyes shifted for a moment, propping his gun for a moment before putting it down again, a false alarm...or so it seemed to be. "I got rid o' most of 'em on this floor as far as I can tell. Dunno 'ow faceache is fairin'. Wosn't 'e upstairs wit you lot?" _

_Russel's brows evened up in thought. "I...was cookin'...an' Noodle was playin' video games in the livin' room. I didn't see D..."_

_The young girl's eyes popped for a moment, nodding in excitement, "D-kun! D-kun! Baffsrum!" Picking her off, Russel placed the small Asian beside him, she darting to his opposite side when a bundled mess came tumbling down the stairwell. Murdoc readied his aim, pausing for a moment when it grumbled in pain, wobbly gathering to its feet. "Oy, 'ell...just me luck."_

_**BANG!**_

_The child gripped the drummer tightly, gazing up in complete fear for her friend, but the young man merely patted her helmeted head as he nodded towards the figure heading their way, yelping as something **else** slumped before his walking path, leaping over it as he got closer. The tightness in her chest quickly faded as she rested her head against the massive gut with a relieved sigh. "Can't even take a bloody pee in this place witout it cavin' in on yeh! Since when does a quick trip to the toilets take an obstacle course teh get back to me room? The lift! They came tumblin' out the bloody fuckin' lift! Crawlin' around up there they are...ain't a thing on me teh take 'em out...Sorry Russ..." the youngest male muttered, tucking his hands into his pockets as he glanced over his shoulder. His thin frame rattled as his voice squeaked with every other word, swallowing hard before squinting into the dark at him. Such situations were never pleasant...and even less so alone. His hands soon snapped around himself, rubbing the chills away, rocking on his heels as he spoke, the thin tee shirt stamped red with a My Name Is danging off his gangly frame, patchwork decorated jeans clinging on like a second skin. Murdoc kept silent, eyes scanning around behind them, back taken care of by the Winnie. _

"_Looks like more clean up on yo' end," the singer sputtered, rubbing away_ _a nasal drip from his sprint. He could swear the carpark always grew twenty degrees colder when the lights were out. "Ain't exactly the best additions of Kong bu-...uhhm...where's Noodle?" _

_For a brief moment, the drummer and bassist shared a blank gaze, Murdoc emitting a chilling grin for less than a second before Russel realized how dark it was and how small the child was along side him in comparison. She poked her chin in curiosity, peering out towards the lad ever so slightly. Could he not see her? She was right there. _

"_Wot the fuck do yeh mean **where's Noodle**? Yeh left the kid **upstairs**?" the bassist snarled, tossing on the act as easily as the real thing. Worry overpowered the young man's previous mask of fear, guilt slowly creeping into a near gag reflex, "B-B-B-But I didn't know she wos up th-there! I-I thought-"_

"_Yeh **obviously** thought wrong, dullard!"_

"_B-But I-"_

"_If that kid's mauled teh bits I'm holdin' it over **yo**' 'ead!" _

_The singer's horrified expression froze as the thought passed through his conscious, face drained of color in the shadows of the pale amber light before appearing to need a basin. His hand rose to his neck, gently curling the fingers around in a clamp before he took a step backwards, spinning on his heel in a jerk towards the stairs. "Wot are you lot waitin' around for? The tyke is all alone up there; she won't know wot to do! Murdoc, you ought to lead, you 'ave the gun! Let's move it! C'mon!" _

_The bassist leaned back against the 'bago door, rolling his eyes towards the left, "Every man for 'imself, faceache."_

_The singer's mouth popped open for a moment before offering the man a fierce glare; Russel shook his head, growing tired of Murdoc's tease, and pressed his hand on the child's shoulder to lead her into the light; however, 2D continued to dart further away into the darkness, heart over mind._

"_She's just a kid, Murdoc!"_

"_D, hang on, man!" Russel called out, but the child merrily skipped after him, butcher's knife swinging loosely in her grasp. She caught up to his legs before either of the men could call out in alarm, she seemingly unaware of the mass danger they were all in before jumping into the young man's gangly step. His knees popped out, flooring him recklessly into the hard concrete with a yelp, rolling onto his back as quickly as possible. He rose his right leg, trying to kick off the offender with unstable jerks, "OH SHIT, GET IT OFF, GET IT OFF! SHOOT IT MURDOC, KILL IT! KILL IT!" _

_Yet, the only reply he received was a rough snicker echoing in the abyss accompanied by his own pulse. "D-kun!" The bluehead paused his counterattack, pulling himself into a seated position as the child crawled toward his waist with a smile, giggling as she patted his cheek. "Hide, seek! Hide, seek!" she squealed, figuring his misunderstanding must have simply been a game of sorts. His jittery fingers crawled around her cheeks before scooping her up, stone faced as he trudged back to the older Brit's smug little smirk awaiting him. "You knew she wos down 'ere the 'ole time, didn't you?" 2D spat, cheeks pressed and brow furrowed into a cherry cheeked glare. The hoe in Russel's hand spun silently while Murdoc simply kept the vile grin plastered along his face. _

"_...Bastards."_

"_Noodle!" _

_His eyes trailed down to the girl in his arms, squinting at the tool in her hands before he could fully grasp what it was. "...You ran at me wit a butcher's knife? She ran at me with a butcher's knife...Yo' mum never tell yeh not to run wit 'em fings? Wot part 'o Japan you come from? Mafia run?" he muttered at her grimly, she blinking blankly as she did her best to comprehend his interrogation. Throwing her arms in the air (and very nearly taking off a chuck of the poor boy's face when doing so), she cheered, "Osaka!" Murdoc's snort gathered around them before he grabbed the lantern, snapping the door shut with his elbow, "Awright, you lot, this is 'ow its gunna go down. We ain't 'ave much time wit 'em pests runnin' about like they own the place an' our only light source bein' laser tag. Like I said before, its either chewed wires or a blown fuse, so downstairs is our checkpoint."_

_Russel arched a thick brow, tilting his weapon at the bassist, "This a game to you, Muds?"_

"_May as well be, lards."_

"_Right then...so...you 'ave a spare fuse...right, Murdoc?"_

_The two eldest stared at the singer oddly before the child pinched his nose with a giggle, tucking her head in shyly as his eyes fell on her looking less than miffed at her play. The bassist lightly pressed the bridge of his crooked nose with a mutter, "They're upstairs in the kitchen..." A small groan had them bite into the silence before Murdoc rose his gun, squinting out until he aimed it straight at 2D's face with a small smirk. "Very funny, Murdoc. Master o' comedy, you are." the singer scoffed, setting Noodle down in front of him. She barely kept still, even in the most dangerous of situations...not that she had ever experienced one quite like this before. He only wondered what was going through her head at the moment. Perhaps she did think this was some sort of hide and seek game lost in translation? He only hoped the best result would come from this unfortunate event. He gave her helmet a lucky rub. They would need all the luck they could get. _

"_Yeh know, somethin' swingable might do yeh some good, faceache." Murdoc uttered darkly, hoisting the lamp above for a few minutes before leading the way towards the stairwell. Rolling his eyes, the singer slid his hand into the child's tiny one, leading her way as Russel trailed behind. "I'll try to remember that before I'm dead." the young man replied, taking two steps at a time and forgetting the girl wasn't nearly as flexible. Her grip on his fingers grew tighter as she tripped over a few, smirking when the tip of Russel's hoe nicked the lad on his crown. "Not a zombie, Russel." the singer reminded darkly, rubbing the offended area. _

"_An' Noodle ain't dead weight." marked the drummer, much to the child's relief. Grumbling as he lifted her, 2D strapped her on his back, hooking his arms around her legs as she looped an arm around his neck. "Watch me back, love. You 'ave the knife." The child grinned and nodded, wondering what kind of attacker would require such a brutal counter. Had **they** turned out the lights? The excitement built within her gut, forming a pleasant rock nestled center of her being. The boys hardly did much with her aside from practice; they were often busy about their own lives, living out the routine they were most accustomed to. She had only recently arrived; her own routine was still in the making, and to ask any of them to help her would be near impossible. Still...she wouldn't have minded if any of them had tried. She had longed to be apart of their game of life for quite some time, and perhaps now this was her chance. _

_Smoothly they tagged along in a breath on neck line, eyes peeled for anything out of the ordinary, Noodle growing curiouser and curiouser. Her body jerked awkwardly against the singer's back when the shotgun before her cracked its powerful blow. The shadowy intended target flopped against the floor, and they hurried past it before the girl could get a good glance at it. "Hmm..." her eyes sharpened as best they could. Tilting his face back a quarter, the singer pursed his lips for a moment before popping her in his grip. Her hidden emeralds searched for his face to read it, but he turned ahead too quickly. Pouting, the small Asian rested her head against his neck, wishing she could say something...something that could possibly send out her s.o.s. to him...that she wanted to play with them...with him. Because she...well...she...**liked** him. Her bulged lip curved into a small smile, gathering a better grip on the man. She liked all of them. From their odd behavior to their foreign language, she wanted all their company...if they would only have hers. _

"_No worries, love...we'll 'ave the lights on soon enough. Just a bump in the road is all." the singer assured quietly, somehow thinking the lights had affected the young child. Her fingers gripped at the handle of her weapon tightly, thumb running along it as time slowly passed. She allowed it to hit against the thin man's chest, never once crossing her mind the thought that the action may have caused the lad some discomfort or perhaps unnerved him. She simply hooked her chin along his shoulder, listening to his outward breathing and smelling the minty chocolate of the last treat he had eaten. She held tight when he skid to a stop, twisting right into a dark doorway, and finally released when he carefully tugged at her grip. She plopped onto the linoleum tiles, recognizing the room by the sheer scent in the air. Russel's soup was still hot. _

"_Awright, so...there ought to be some fuses in one of these drawers, right?"_

"_Man, I do most of the cookin' in this place, an' all those drawers are filled with spoons, knives, forks, and the occasional sewing kit with super glue. Never seen no replacement fuse." _

"_Wot about a junk drawer? We're bound to 'ave one o' those."_

"_What do we need a junk drawer for, Murdoc? You junk every other damn room in Kong." _

"_Shut yo' gob, tubby, an' get a move on. We're burnin' candle light 'ere." _

"_'ow 'bout cabinets o' d'broom closet?" _

"_It's a start, faceache. Just try everythin'. I know there in 'ere...just can't remember **where** for the life o' me." the bassist muttered, setting the lantern on top of the wooden table for a dim, but even enough lighting. Noodle set the cooking utensil along side it, tucking her hands into her slender jacket, watching as the men separated and rushed along in their rather intense search. Tugging open a drawer, the child gave a peek, wondering what treasure they could possibly be looking for. Her helmet toppled into her vision before plucking it back up, giving Murdoc a bland gaze as he ignored the damage his elbow had done. "Move it along, kid. I'm lookin' for somethin'." _

"_Waaant...waant..." she thought for a moment, doing her best to scan her memory for the very word Russel had taught her, "Waant...waant he-elp?" _

_Patting her away towards the entryway, Murdoc gave a few sharp nods, eyes squinting as his fingers rummaged through the silverware, clinking and thunking all the way, "Yeah, yeah, keep watch, will yeh? If anythin' comes around, let me know. Now, **move** it!" Spitting out a sigh, the child stepped away, running a finger down the cool barrel of the gun Murdoc had set down to explore the wonders of each and every drawer. Her eyes fell over to the opposite side of the room, 2D halfway buried into the broom closet while Russel searched the cabinets on that side from top to bottom, right to left. She watched as he shifted items, grunted and groaned, 2D muffled his hiccuping, and Murdoc hissed out guttural grumbles. The game seemed to have moved onto something only they could do...or understand. Tucking her chin into her chest, the young child shrugged her shoulders into a slump, resting them against the wall behind her. She stared at her shoes, tapping one, then the other in silent rhythm, doing her best to keep away, as Murdoc had suggested. Her company obviously wasn't wanted or necessary at this point. _

_Well, the least she could do was gather up some flashlights, she was sure of that. A small smile curved along her cheeks, squeezing past Russel to dig within one of the bottom cabinets. She recalled having found a couple back when helping the large man concoct their dinner once. They were bound to be untouched. Crawling in on all fours, the small girl twisted and curled among the many bottles and tools stored away behind the many doors of their kitchen, pulling herself along the dark and dusty small square tunnel, hands patting around as she searched. A batch of cobwebs covered her from head to toe, raising the dust as she tried to swat them off in the cramped area. Her eyes soon began to burn, forcing her to pause her little hunt for a moment, sitting back to rub the pain away with the back of her sleeve. She could still hear the murmuring of the boys outside the wooden doors, garbled and a bit muffled from the thickness of the wood. As long as they didn't desert her, she would continue on. _

_Wiping his nose with the back of his hand, Murdoc slammed shut the last drawer, cursing as he ran a narrow clawed hand through his hair, "Any luck?" Leaning up (and bumping his head along the shelf as he did), 2D pulled out from the closet, shaking his head while he rubbed it, eyes winced shut, "No..." _

"_They're up there." _

_Both men glanced at the drummer, tossing up a finger to a topmost shelf of the open cabinet, "I have a feelin' they must've gotten pushed back from cans or somethin'. D?" _

"_I got it." the bluehead sighed, swinging his arm easily into the shelf, pressing on tiptoes to grasp at the very back, and in his palm clamped a light box. Curling it in, he exhibited the spoils. The eldest shook his head in disbelief, snatching the box from the singer's grip, "Last place we bloody look. Of course. They're goin' in that drawer from now on, right over..." His eyes darted around the room, jaw slowly lowering, voice void of power._

"_...Where's Noodle?" _

_Crossing his arms, 2D snorted with an arched brow while Russel gave the room a scan himself. One...two...three...three...three? "Sod off, Murdoc. I ain't fallin' for that one again. Wot do yeh take me f-" The lad's head knocked against the bassist's with a faint thud, peering into the man's malicious stare. "Where..." the Brit snarled, "...is Noodle?" _

_Thrusting his arms over his head, the keyboardist sunk his neck in for fear of any slap coming his way, "I don't know! She wos wit you, wosn't she?" Both took a step away from the drummer as they nearly felt the floor vibrate with his growl. "**Murdoc**..." he started, but was abruptly cut off as the leader waved his hand in front of his face, shoving the gangly one back into the closet, "We're losin' time. Move yo' arses, NOW!" Clutching his shotgun, the shaggy haired Brit tossed the box of fuses at his drummer, stepping out into the hall. In his grip he cocked the barrel, twisting as he couldn't fathom which direction to take. She could have gone anywhere in the entire building. The question was, what were his options...and which one to choose first. His eyes darted left as he heard a faint thud, brows furrowing, grip tightening. He couldn't immediately shoot. Not when he couldn't identify._

"_Oy, Noodle! Where are yeh, girlie?" _

_Knocking her helmet into the pipes hanging low above her, Noodle rubbed her nose tenderly, wedging herself out of the bottled mess. She had found the flashlights and apparently she was now needed. Her foot kicked out a door, toppling out with a few canisters and boxes, dust and all. The drummer stepped away, taking a knee to inspect the girl of any injuries, "Babygirl, what the hell were you doin' in there?" Shaking the torches while he dusted her off, the girl's smile diminished as the bassist's barrel pointed at her, tight lipped as ever. "You best get that shit to another direction before I shove it up yo' ass." Russel gnarled, setting the girl to her feet. _

"_Didn't I tell you to keep watch?" the foul mouth hissed, taking a stomp into the kitchen, glaring down at her. "Didn't I __**specifically**__ ask yeh to let me know if anythin' came around? That means you stay put __right 'ere! This ain't no bloody game, yeh brat! No hide an' seek, none o' that! If we don't play our cards right, it can end in some serious shit, do you understand me?" Pouting lightly, the junior lifted her trophies from her travels, immediately defending herself, "__Shikashi, wareware wa yori ōku no hikari ga hitsuyō! Watashi wa ikutsu ka no o hakken!" _

_Russel snagged one, shaking it out in hopes it would turn on, "Flashlights..."_

"_I don't care if she brought out the bloody queen, I gave the kid a simple little job-"_

"_MURDOC!" _

_The bassist's eyes widened as the surge of pain shot down to his fingertips to the back of his neck, bicep clenching...or trying to underneath the jagged teeth that had scissored their way in. Head shakily jerking towards the alien face, the man bit down hard on his bottom lip, cutting through and tasting his own blood before curling up his free fist, cracking the creature...or what was left of its rotten skull. The monster only chewed down tighter, and the pain intensified fourfold. _

"_FFFFFFFFUUUUCCCKKK!" _

_The gun collapsed to the ground, clattering towards the table, and in a swoop it was in Russel's grip before Murdoc could catch his breath, face paling in the candle light. "AIM! AIM!" was all he was able to belt out before the gun exploded, a mass of bodily rain thrust in every direction. Fingers curled into his hair, the singer kicked away the slumping remains, grabbing their leader's arm a tad tighter than he had intended. The bassist's hand smarted him upside the head before clamping over his wound, cursing with each gaining breath. "'ang on, Murdoc! Let me see!" the bluehead pressed on, trying to peel away the man's cover, receiving a harsh snarl in return. _

"_Sod off, idiot! It's just a sting, awright, so carry yo'self elsewhere!" _

_But doubt held in his voice, and for his eyes only he lifted his palm cap, wincing at the sight of the bloody bite, a few loose teeth tucked away embedding themselves. Swallowing the heart burn, he pulled himself away from the group suffocating him, grabbing a wad of paper towels from the revolving rack, make shifting a bandage as quickly as possible. From the corner of his eye he spotted the silent child, giving a glance before tiding himself back up. She was covered a bit in the splatter, eyes wide and fearful, body frame in a single wind of shaking. Her hands curled over her mouth, frozen in time from the moment she had witnessed. It wasn't exactly the first memory he intended her to have during a blackout, but it was bound to come at some point or another. Such creatures lived in Kong...and there was nothing they could do about it. This was **their** land, not these four band members, and if it gave them the right to animate and hunt, they only had the gull to stay alive and stick it out. No questions asked. _

"_That ain't gunna hold it." Russel muttered, ignoring Murdoc growl, but 2D curled an arm across his chest, covering his mouth in worried thought as he paced, unable to decide where to stand in the room. His shadow haunted them all, shifting from side to side, size to size. Murdoc held the pad in place, nodding at his shotgun, "You obviously 'ave the shots now, lards. **Don't** miss. Shots are expensive." _

"_Of course you would only think of money in a time like this."_

"_Want me to focus on the pain in me arm right now, Russ? I can complain a bitch because it 'urts like one! I suggest you be careful wot yeh wish for, two ton." _

_Russel shook his head darkly, cocking the gun, but 2D patted his elbow, biting along his finger as his brows furrowed higher and higher. Eyes darting to his wound and up, the bassist took a step towards him, stomping on his sneaker to peg his place, "There a fuckin' problem?" Running his hands into the azure spikes, the lad shook his head in a jerk, then changed his mind midway, circling it before blurting, "I-I've seen this shit before in films an' stuff, Murdoc! You got **bit**! You know wot 'appens over a course of limited **time**? Do yeh even know?" His voice broke into nervous hysterics, receiving a poke in the gut from the barrel of the gun, Russel giving him a firm glare to lower his voice, but the poor boy simply couldn't control himself. They weren't nearly on the same level of zombie enthusiast he was. How **could** they know? His finger darted out, slipping his foot out from Murdoc's weight and pulled away a few feet in fearful horror. _

_Lowering his brow darkly, Murdoc coughed out, daring the singer to answer, "Wot 'appens then, faceache?"_

"_You become one of 'em!" he snapped, swallowing hard before his back bumped into the broom closet door. None noticed the child hiding within the shadows, heart darting faster and faster with each word said. Her throat seemed to close on her, unable to look anywhere but that horrid makeshift bandage, jittery teeth biting along the layers of her dry lips, nicking her tongue at one point as her hands continually rubbed her stomach, a deep hardening taking place there. This was **her** fault...she couldn't breathe...that disgusting, disfigured monster...would they have to...could she even...she hadn't meant to..._

"_It'll spread all through an' then within the hour you'll be cravin' our flesh like a bloody three course meal!" the singer squealed, curving his arms over his head with a deep shiver, "A-An' then we'll 'ave to...'ave t-to...t-to..." his lip trembled for a bit before Murdoc's curled into a snarl, ready to give the lad a grand wallop for his generous scenario, but before he could lean a step closer, the child bolted from the room, banging into anything that was in her way and made a sharp right into the darkness. "NOODLE!" Russel bellowed, nearly taking the bassist out as he hurried after her, cursing as he realized how incredibly dark the halls were. "The lantern, lards! Lantern! See wot yeh did, yeh stupid fuck! You an' yo' bloody movies wit yo' bloody scenarios right in front o' the kid after this 'appens, great fuckin' genius you are! I ought to smash yo' 'ead right in." _

"_B-But-"_

"_D, shut the fuck up. We ain't got time for that bullshit!" _

Still far too quiet. Stupid. She had left her weapon on the kitchen table. Now she understood its purpose. Now she had met their true neighbors. Fear haunted her every breath, doing her best to remain calm. Her throat seized for a moment before hiccuping into her blankets...meditating...it had never been so difficult...clearing the mind...calming the soul...freeing it from the troublesome world...

The pulse in her ears gushed rapidly, eyes darting to her door before she could comprehend what she was looking at. Her chest clenched, thudding in a slow painful echo, reverberating throughout her entire body...the handle jiggled once more. Eyes wide, the small child curled in on herself, squeezing her eyes shut...she had to do something...she had to survive. Her hand was unstable, reaching for her guitar's neck...grip weak but firm...if she had to...

Her ears picked up a feint metallic clicking, scrunching her nose before lifting the guitar like a bat, both feet plotted on the wooden floor. And slowly, it cracked open, Murdoc's head poking in rapidly looking quite flustered, eyes falling on her with final success. "She's in 'er room..." he sighed, pushing the door in, but couldn't hold his footing as she charged at him, eyes glaring and weapon ready. He thrust back into Russel's gut, slamming 2D into the opposite hall wall, waving his arms out in quick defense, "Whoah! Noodle, 'ang on there! Wot the fuck! It's us!"

At the sound of his voice the guitar clattered to the floor, a string popping right off the neck, but she paid it no mind...glued to her spot as she stared at his boots...feeling the burn fill her eyes once more. She refused to look up, instead dropping down, legs sprawled under her, back hunched, hair hung. And finally, her silence unleashed its clasp, a hefty sob breaking from such a tiny chest, the bassist actually wondered if such an action hurt as well as comforted. Her voice broke into grainy hisses...stepped on glass...oily basting...nothing he had ever heard before. The man stood awkwardly before her, stepping to the side so the others could enter, and behind them, 2D locked the door shut, pressing his back against it with a sigh. From one to another, each held a mask of discomfort, unsure of what to do...how unfortunate for her to be the only child...the only female...the only one who couldn't have understood...

The puddle under the child's face grew thicker with tears and spit, arms slumped at their sides. Russel rubbed along the bridge of his nose, shaking his head in thought. How could they have asked so much of her? It wasn't fair. Milky whites falling on her in pity, the large man slowly rested his massive hand along her scalp with a tender pet, hoping whatever fears she had bottled up would press onto him and leave the poor child be. She needn't demons to haunt her nor torment her innocent soul. He would gladly give himself for her smile. Her head ripped from his paw, crawling in a broken spined shuffle over to Murdoc's feet, causing a slight wince in the male's features, though he would never admit it later on. Children were the heart and soul of the future, and to this fact, he endowed a great respect...but he preferred it when they weren't slumping across the floors or peering out from the corners...it often left quite a foul taste in his mouth. However so, he couldn't find the energy to kick her away would he some undead ghostly phantom child...or the simple ordinary child he tended to ignore. Her arms weaved within his legs, body curling along like a battered kitten, shuttering as if he had brought her in from the cold.

He found he had raised his brows as far as they could go, glancing up at his singer for some direction. He tended to understand the child better than any of them, psychologically wise at best, but the young man simply offered a sad shrug, face that of a forlorn child connecting with her agony, piles of pain flashing through him of so many years ago. They shifted towards Russel; however, the abandonment had hit him too hard, rubbing along his hand, cheeks tight. Murdoc appeared to be alone in this, expected to clear up the tender situation before him before it reached a dangerous level. Clearing his throat a bit, the eldest nodded his foot a bit, hoping to gather a response from the child. "C-Can't..." she coughed out, a drippy sniff snorting its way in. Furrowing his brows a bit, the bassist make a small attempt to squat, but her neck snapped up before his knees could even bend, eyes wide, empty, and red ringed. A string of chills ran through the man, urging him to rid her of this state as soon as possible, "...Eh, uh-wot?" he fumbled, but she only gripped harder, pulling herself up his leg, resting her cheek along his thigh.

Wincing at the action, Murdoc's eyes darted towards 2D, pursing his lips tightly before directing his stiff hands down at the girl then out towards the singer, eyes bothered and begging, "_Remove 'er._" he mouthed through grit teeth, somewhat relieved when the young lad squatted down to her eye level. Running a hand through her choppy hair, the singer used his softest tone, "S'awright, darlin'...ain't nothin' gunna 'urt you now..."

"Hurt _Mudo-kun_!" she snapped, glaring at the man from Crawley with such disdain he stretched back into the atmosphere where he could breathe.

"Wot the bloody 'ell d'you mean 'urt me!" the bassist growled, finding his strength to give his leg a little shake, but she had stapled her fingers on.

"Nudoru-chan play game _bad!_ Hurt Mudo-kun...h-hurt..." she sniffed, hiccuping into his leg, "...c-can't...c-can't more hurt...not wanting die...c-can't..." Her cheek rubbed into his knee, pressing her face as tightly as possible, making it impossible for the man to leave her grasp. But his attempts had been halted for the moment, glancing down peculiarly at the child, then slowly delve into a dark look aimed directly at 2D. "This is yo' fault, numb nuts. Yeh 'ave the kid scared shitless. Congratulations. How's it feel?"

"My fault? 'ow's it my fault?" the singer cried, cringing back when Murdoc's hand rose threateningly, but Russel brushed him back, thrusting a sharp finger into the lad's thin chest. "All that zombie turnin' bull shit you pulled out, she probably thinks we have to kill jackass over there. Although, you never know." he muttered, glancing over his shoulder slowly enough to catch the end of Murdoc's middle finger show. "Oy, you down there. Enough wit the grovelin'. Get up." the bassist ordered, taking his good arm to hoist the child to her feet as best he could (and as far as she was willing). Grabbing her through her shoulder, he led her to the edge of her bed closest to the candle light, setting her down before taking a seat for himself. Before he said a word, he checked under the padding he had, grumbling a bit before smoothing it back on. Then he turned to her.

"Look," he started, slapping a hand on her head, "I dunno 'ow much o' this you can understand right now, but yo' a quick learner. I wouldn've kept you around if you weren't. Downstairs...an' outside...all around right now are these..._monsters_. We call them zombies. They look like us...sometimes...well, from far anyway...but they _aren't_ us. Not like us." he nodded, staring down at her. He pointed to his shoulder, "Shit like this? It happens."

"Monsutā eat!" she trembled, but he rung his arm around her firmly with a pat, "It didn't eat me...just went in for a little taste is all...a bite. I'll be fine. I ain't gunna turn into one of 'em. No matter wot the 'ell _faceache_ says." the man growled, glaring over the child's head at him. 2D rung his hands nervously, not so entirely sure. Rolling his eyes wearily, Murdoc leaned back against the bed, much to Russel's dismay. It hadn't been too long ago that they had been showered in rotting human remains. "Look morons, as much as you want to believe wot you want...especially you, _2D_, there ain't no "virus" in these pests. They work purely on the dark vibes of this land. It comes from the very center of this building...like the hive to a bunch o' bees. It just...animates them, somehow...and it does loads of other things...things we can't even imagine..."

Rubbing the back of her palm across her cheek, the child peered up, tucking her fingers along his, "Mudo-kun...not sick?" she asked quietly, fear rattling her every bone, but he shook his head lightly, wiggling her fingers within his palm, "No, love. They're not those kind." She buried her face into his side, squeezing him tight. She wouldn't have been able to destroy him...any of them...she simply couldn't imagine it. Even if she had to. "Right," he muttered, rubbing his nose, "Still 'ave a fuse to fix." The grip on his waist grew even tighter to the point where he couldn't breathe.

Shaking his head, Russel ran a hand along his scalp, "Man...we can't go downstairs after that...especially with you, peanut blooder. Draggin' you along is as safe as swimmin' with chum in the ocean. I'm not exactly enthusiastic about bein' bite buddies with you."

"An' I'm not goin' down alone. I'm a terrible shot, an' I doubt you'd even let me use yo' gun." 2D prodded stiffly, receiving a rather unimpressed side glance from the bassist.

"The 'ell I would."

"Might as well wait till mornin'." Russel sighed, lowering himself on the end of the bed while the singer cozied himself on the other half Murdoc wasn't using up. The bassist hissed at them both, twisting himself, "Fancy the two 'ew 'ave no worries but to just wait it out until mornin' while I'm 'ere tendin' to me own wound." Noodle hopped off the side and pulled open a drawer, digging through until she found what she had been searching for. Crawling back on the bed, she rested on her knees, motioning for him to remove the paper towel padding, and he did slowly as not to irritate the area. Slowly opening her eyes, the child took a breath and went back into her drawer, tugging along a small trash bin with her. With the tweezers she had found, she plucked out the few teeth straggled in there, tossing them out as quickly as she could, then bandaged up the area as neatly as possible. It was the least she could do for the man before tossing everything out and snuggling alongside him.

She rested for a few moments in thought before sitting up, rolling over to Russel and pecking him on his head. Running his thumb over her cheek, he offered her a warm smile, eyes assuring her everything would be alright. Curling back between the two men, the young girl rested along her back, finding the singer calculating which way to lay down that would leave her with the most space, since Murdoc didn't think about such things. However, she slowly grabbed his arm, looping it with hers before resting her head along his shoulder with a timid smile. Resting his cheek against her head, the young man sighed, "I didn't mean to scare yeh, love..." and in his voice she could read ten thousand excuses he wanted to explain to justify his words...but he left it at that, and for it, she bit him goodnight with a light kiss to his nose. And in her other arm, she twined with Murdoc's...fingers locked to be sure he wasn't to go anywhere without her knowing. Glancing down at her, he arched a brow at her invasion of space, but decided to cut her some slack...it was _her_ bed after all. And very gently, she rested a kiss along his elbow, not too far from the wound, eyes holding their shy sadness for what fault was hers. But he simply ruffled her hair, quite done with the situation and ready to move on, "Go to sleep kid. We still 'ave to change that fuse. An' lards, if yo' gunna pick a place to sleep, try the front of that door. Snorlax tend to block major paths, don't they?"

"Go to hell, asshole."

"Screw you, tubby."

"Cut it out, you two..."

"Shut yo' face, dullard."

"She's asleep."

And in the fade of the candle light, they saw that it was true.

* * *

**Author's Note**: _Guess who's been around? Sorry for the lack of stories lately. I was so busy with school work, finals, critiques and the like...it took so long to write this out. So much has happened! I was in the semi finals for the evangelist competition! That was quite some excitement, I must say. And that aside, I've been drawing up comics and such, so that's also been taking my time. It is literally 6 in the morning right now, and I'm off to bed. _


End file.
